


Alpha Games

by Arcs



Series: Alpha Games [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fanfic season 3, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Multiple Pov, Original Character(s), implicit everyone else, magic!Lydia, sexually explicit Sterek, very slow Sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 08:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 76,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcs/pseuds/Arcs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Alpha Pack has killed thousands of people and werewolves alike. They've set their sights on Derek's Pack and anyone that knows of the supernatural in Beacon Hills.<br/>Ten alphas versus a few teenagers isn't much of a challenge, though. So they've given Derek time to get ready for the fight.<br/>Weak prey isn't any fun, after all.</p><p>Season 2 just ended but Season 3 is too far away!<br/>I've tried to stay true to the nature of the original universe, but since S3 seems scheduled to include at least a dozen more characters and flesh out many others, there is only so much I can predict.<br/>The main story is complete. Small side-stories will probably happen at some point in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lydia.

**Author's Note:**

> There are no major deaths in part 1.  
> Though some people do die.  
> Mostly, there is a lot of drama.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> If you want, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia decides to take control.

As the initial shock of seeing her long-time social status of a boyfriend, and recently realized true love, transform from some sort of menacing reptile monster into a raging hairy thing, passed, a world-full of theories spun through Lydia Martin's head.

_So, this must be the point where I either break down and cry like I have been. Or I dominate this situation like I should have when I started seeing things that shouldn't exist._

_Now, though, I know that those hallucinations were caused by some sort of supernatural forces. I've been losing time due to magic and werewolves and Real Crazy, not to just Plain Crazy._

_Oh my god. Werewolves. Reptile-men. Did someone actually name what Jackson was in all this confusion? I'll have to pretend I heard what it was. Find some way to glean that information through casual conversation._

_Ha! Casual conversation. 'My, what big teeth you all seem to have. Is the town dentist in on all of this, too?'_

_Jackson is alive. Oh my god. Jackson is alive._

Jackson collapsed to his knees. While everyone looked on in fascination and the claws on Jackson's hands faded, Lydia rushed forward. 

“...Lydia?” Jackson said. “I heard you...”

“Yes. I'm here.” She wrapped her arms around him.

Jackson's head lolled on Lydia's shoulder. Tears ran down her face as Jackson sighed to sleep.

 

Lydia shot hard-edged glares to everyone in the abandoned warehouse.

Allison was in some sort of vigilante ninja outfit. Proficient with a bow, and therefore carrying one, was not a surprise. The daggers looked like they were another weapon of choice. Obviously she had been in on this long enough to be trained in multiple weapons.

Scott's eyes glowed yellow. At her glance, Scott looked down towards a red-eyed man.

_Monsters everywhere? Probably._

Stiles looked shaken. Skinner than usual. Lots of stress coupled with long nights. Everyone knew something big had happened at the police headquarters. The running story was that Matt had sliced people up with a machete as he held others hostage.

In light of recent events, the obviousness of that coverup became apparent.

_There was no way one kid could have taken out half a dozen officers._

Lydia held Jackson closer and reigned back a scream.

_He is better now. Isn't he?_

Chris Argent spoke. “Allison, it's time to go.”

Allison startled at the voice. Her hand came away from Scott's as though she realized she had been touching a stove. She walked away without looking back.

Chris and the red-eyed man looked at each other before Chris departed right behind his daughter.

_Is that red-eyed guy Derek Hale? It is! My hallucinations from before... That means..._

She squinted her eyes as she prepared to speak. “Is Peter here too?”

A cough echoed through the silent warehouse. A phantom stepped out from behind a pillar and into the light.

“Peter. Hale.” Lydia stumbled across the words.

“I'd always known you'd find your way back to this sort of life. Once it touches you, no one can escape.”

“You're an asshole.”

Peter looked askance. His face full of confusion.

“That's how you speak to someone who filled you full of nightmares?”

“Correct.” She turned towards Stiles, “Can you help me get him home?”

Stiles rushed to her side. “Yes. But, wait. He was dead. How are you going to explain this to his parents?”

“Please.” Lydia put on her best sad-girl-please-help-me face, “I can think of something on the ride over there. I want to leave. Now.”

“Okay!” Stiles jumped at her command.

Derek Hale climbed to his feet and spoke, “You can't. There is no way you could explain anything about what happened tonight. You risk exposure of us all and I can't allow that.”

Scott helped Stiles move Jackson while Lydia simply turned around to confront both old and new nightmares. Derek's eyes glowed red. Peter stood behind, like some sort of passive spectator, and smiled around elongated teeth.

“In the five minutes it has taken us to get this far, I already have at least one non-supernatural story. Jackson was a part of a sting operation to bring his real parents out of hiding. Apparently, they faked their own deaths oh so long ago, but have been keeping an eye on their boy. The government wanted them for some reason that I will come up with later, so Jackson decided to help. That is why Jackson has been more Jackson-like for the past few months. He wanted to see his parents, and the government said that they would expose the insurance fraud if Jackson didn't assist them. With the threat of losing all of his money hanging over his head, Jackson cooperated.”

As Lydia spun her lies the red faded from Derek's eyes. Jackson was in the jeep when Lydia finished her story. With a graceful retrieval of the key that had fallen to the ground, Lydia looked back up for some sort of recognition of her genius.

Derek, no longer bleeding, turned away to stare at a puddle of black goo on the ground.

Peter stepped forward and an inner terror gripped at Lydia's heart. She staved off the panic to stand her ground. Only a slight flinch betrayed her turmoil.

“Good story.” Peter said, “Maybe his parents were drug runners, or something more devious. I'm sure you'll come up with something plausible. Just make sure he gets back to us before the next full moon.” Peter reached into his pocket to retrieve a piece of paper. “Got a pen?”

Lydia took several steps away, trying to get back to the jeep before Peter got any closer.

“Stiles and Scott seem to know about most of this. Or enough, anyways. I'll just ask him where to find you.”

“Suit yourself, young lady. I wish you had been there to explain my own resurrection. Maybe then I'd still have my insurance money.” Peter turned and followed a trail of black goo on the ground.

A hand gently touched her shoulder. Her entire body tensed as she turned to see who it was. It took a moment for the terror to calm enough so that she could understand what was being said.

“...Ly... Lydia? Are you okay?” Stiles said. “Let's go.”

Lydia sat in the backseat with Jackson. Stiles drove. Scott had vanished somewhere.

“Go to my house first. I have some of Jackson's clothes there. Then we can go to his house.” Lydia added, “Thank you for doing this, Stiles. Would you like to go to an IHOP or something after we drop Jackson off? I'd really like to talk to you about all of this.”

Stiles jittered with what Lydia could only guess was happiness.

_Oh. Stiles. I would feel worse about using you if only you had been truthful to me sooner._

 

Jackson regained consciousness before they got to Lydia's house. When he awoke naked and shivering he pushed away from Lydia. She simply pulled him closer and whispered into his ear.

“I love you. You're going to be alright. Don't be mad anymore. Everything will be alright. I've already got a cover story for you. I love you.”

Never before had Jackson been so loveable. They held each other as Stiles had a breakdown in the front seat of his jeep.

Pulling up to Lydia's house, they noticed all the lights were on. Lydia waltzed into the house, promptly ignored the annoyed tone to her father's voice, and went upstairs to retrieve a set of Jackson's clothes stashed in the drawer she had designated as his half a year ago. She checked her makeup in the mirror and grabbed a few wipes for later.

_Mascara lines, smudged everything, perfect._

Her parents waited at the foot of the staircase.

“Mom, Dad. Jackson is alive. I'm taking him back to his own parents now. Then, I'm going to have a long chat with someone involved in the whole coverup that was revealed to me tonight.” Before they could get in a word, Lydia continued, “Please, I need to ignore curfew tonight. I'll answer your questions tomorrow, when I have pried out everything I can.”

After the confusion passed, her mother spoke first, “Okay.”

Her father added, “You have your phone. Call or text to let us know you're alright. Every hour until you're home.”

Smiling through fresh tears she hugged her parents before nearly dancing out of the front door. She pulled out the wipes and cleaned off her face as she called to the occupants of the jeep.

“Jackson! Wave back so they don't think I'm crazy.”

Jackson leaned out and waved to the Martins standing in the front door. Lydia heard the gasp from behind as she kept on walking.

Clothed and lucid and on their way to his house, Jackson spoke, “I think I heard something about going to an IHOP?”

Stiles flinched at the steering wheel.

Lydia grabbed Jackson's hands and spoke, “Stiles and I are going. You're clearing up this mess surrounding your death. They might have already frozen your accounts. You've been dead for a day.”

Something glinted blue in Jackson's eyes. “...So what are we going to tell them?”

Lydia rambled off her story. At the mention of his real parents, Jackson's eyes turned fully blue.

Lydia stopped, “Jackson Whittemore. Please. Stop that right now.”

Stiles spoke, “Gotta calm down. When Scott first turned we found out his change was tied to his heart rate.”

“Thank you, Stiles.” Lydia turned towards Jackson and kissed him on the forehead.

 

Dropping Jackson off was both an exhilarating test of Lydia's ability to lie, and a revelation that Stiles was not just some love-struck idiot. He was able to play along in a suitably convincing fashion. Jackson played off the whole experience as emotionally draining.

In half an hour Stiles and Lydia were back on the road. In ten more minutes they pulled up to a 24-hour diner. Not many people were eating at three am. A few stoned kids giggled together while the single waitress eyed Lydia and Stiles. They picked a high-backed booth at the far end of a wall of booths, well away from everyone.

Lydia ordered for both of them. One burger and curly fries for Stiles. One giant strawberry milkshake for herself. The effect of ordering Stiles his favorite food elicited the exact response that Lydia was going for.

Total pliability.

“So,” Lydia started, “Werewolves exist. Magic is real. Everyone is involved in this but me. I intend to make that last part change. Please, Stiles,” She reached her hand over the table and grasped his, “Tell me everything that you know.”

Their food came and went. Lydia ordered another milkshake. Stiles did the same after he finished his burger. Slowly and irrevocably, Lydia's world shattered and recombined to include the supernatural.

Lydia talked about her hallucinations of Peter and what she could remember of her romp through the woods. Stiles talked about throwing moltov cocktails at Peter before Derek killed his uncle and claimed the alpha power.

Stiles talked about what really happened at the police station. Lydia struggled to keep her calm, but reacted with just enough caring in order to keep Stiles talking.

Jackson's story, divulged and out in the open, kept Lydia rigid with anger, terror, concern, and love.

Stiles' part of the conversation always trailed back to either how bad of a friend Scott had become, or to Derek.

Stiles talked about getting the offer for a Bite from Peter.

Lydia asked when the realization finally dawned on her, “Why did I not change?”

“Uh... I really have no idea at all. Dr. Deaton might know? Scott's veterinarian boss seems to be a part of all of this too. I have a lot to talk to him about, too. Want to go there tomorrow?”

Lydia's phone went off with a text from her mother.

'Where r u, honey? Ur okay, right?'

It was four in the morning already. Two hours had passed without much notice. Their waitress, now that Lydia took the time to look, had a face that was beyond grumpy.

“Uh, Sorry. Stiles. I need to text my mother back. Just one minute.” Lydia paused, “Isn't your father going to be worried about where you are?”

“No. He has the night shift tonight. I need to be in bed before he gets home at seven, though.”

“I'll be right back.” Lydia walked towards their waitress. “I'm sorry for taking up your booth for so long, or if we're too loud. My friend and I are working on a book and we just got on such a roll.”

“I wondered at all the strange things you two lovebirds were going on about.” her mood seemed to lighten. “You two want another pair of shakes?”

“Yes,” Lydia laid a fifty on the counter, “those two shakes will probably be the last though, keep the change.”

“The girl buying for the guy?” the waitress smiled as she turned around to the kitchen.

 

Lydia texted her parents and climbed back into the booth with Stiles.

He looked like he was going to blow a gasket.

“Icouldhaveboughtthefood. You didn't have-”

Lydia interrupted, “Buy the next time. Though, next time we'll do this at a more reasonable hour.”

The last set of milkshakes came and went.

“So. Mountain ash? That makes a barrier against the supernatural?”

“Yeah. I didn't believe it at first, either. But then I took a moment to think about all this crazy stuff that has been happening around me. Because you know, werewolves are a thing that exists. So magic must exist too. So of course it actually works.” Stiles finished the last of his milkshake, “you have to believe in it for it to work. That is a part of the magic. Without that spark, the ash is just inert material.”

“Are you bisexual?”

The utter shock that shattered across Stiles' face was something Lydia would remember for a long time. She succeeded at not betraying her mirth.

“Why? What?”

“Whenever you mention this Derek guy, you get this look in your eyes. I've seen you around the table with those looks you give Danny, not to mention the ones you give me.”

“You... You've noticed me?”

“The guy doing pratfalls whenever I come around? Yes. I've noticed.” Lydia sighed, “I like you well enough, but love is not something I use to determine anything. Success and a mind for anything interesting will get you far with me. You can't buy me with gifts, or with devotion.”

All the joy from this surreal night vanished from Stiles' face.

With a smile like a sunrise, Lydia added, “And now that I've learned that the supernatural really exists. Success can mean many, many, different things. It's getting on six in the morning. Take me back home, Stiles.”

The car ride was mostly silent. As Lydia waved goodbye to Stiles, she kept her last thoughts to herself.

_Now that I know the supernatural exists, I am going to do everything it takes to conquer this field of study. Starting with Jackson._


	2. Stiles.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles learns his fate!  
> Explanations! 
> 
> "...Omg! you mean people try to discuss things like normal people?"  
> "A thousand times yes!"

Stiles had just finished a bath and subsequent collapse into his bed when the front door to the house swung open. The familiar clomp-clomp of his father's boots echoed in the quiet house. Stiles turned towards the blinking alarm beside his head. In half an hour he was supposed to get up to go to start the day.

The whole night had been one surreal event after another.

The Kanima neutralized. Lydia being let in on Beacon Hills's secret. Lydia taking complete control of the situation and displaying that her ability to dominate far outweighs her tendancy to fear. Lydia and he on, what Stiles realizes  that he will forever refer to as, their first date.

_Was that a date? She is still clearly into Jackson._

_Why did she ask if I was bi? Just because I check out the competition doesn't make me bi. Okay, so maybe the guys in porn turn me on just as much as the girls do._

_I do sort of like it when he pushes me into walls..._

_This is not the start of a healthy relationship. Oh hell. If I wanted healthy I shouldn't be having any sparks for the guy with murdered family issues._

_Oh my god. Do I actually have a thing for Derek?_

_No. I don't think I do._

_I'm just a compassionate sort of guy. Everyone needs a hug every now and again. Some more than others._

_What the hell, Lydia? Here I was all happy that you're talking to me, and now I'm having an identity crisis. Maybe Lydia will want to learn magic with me? Will that me my 'in'? Can I do more than just make an ash barrier?_

_Identity crisises, crisies? Crises! Better than a kanima and old man crisis, I suppose._

_What happened to that old bastard? I think I was a bit distracted._

Stiles stared at the ceiling for half an hour. The alarm rang for half a second before Stiles silenced it and got up for the day.

 

School was boring. Jackson was not there but somehow everyone knew he was alive. The rumor-mill was working overtime. Government experiment or coverup? Aliens? New medicine that was somehow able to fix both stab-wounds and death? Most people spoke of a story similar to the one Lydia had told Derek, but everyone openly wanted it to be something much more awesome.

Lydia confronted Stiles near his locker as bells signaled the end of the school day.

“So which story floating around is your favorite? I like the one about Jackson being an alien.”

Stiles took a moment to get over the fact that Lydia was talking to him without some sort of prompt, “You're the one spreading all these rumors, aren't you?”

Lydia smirked, “Obviously. Not going to let anyone catch onto anything like the truth. If you throw enough shit out there no one will believe it when the real thing comes to light. We're going to the vet's today, right?”

Everything was suddenly not-boring again.

She got in his jeep and they drove to the vet's.

“Have any revelation's about your bisexuality?” Lydia asked when they were stopped at a red light. When Stiles stuttered Lydia continued, “I don't think you'd be happy with me. Not that I don't like the attention. But I can't give anyone the kind of stuff you're looking for.”

“I like just being around you...” Stiles drifted off.

“That is not healthy. Unrequited love is a bitch.”

They drove in silence all the way to the Dr. Deaton's practice.

“Hey! Stiles!” Scott wheeled around them on his bike and begun hooking it up to a nearby rack.

Lydia continued into the practice while Stiles hesitated for Scott.

“Dude! Whats going on? I saw Lydia get into your car but you didn't say anything when I yelled at you.” Scott leaned close and sniffed, “I can even smell her on you. I heard the rumors all day today. Did she say anything new about Jackson?”

“I don't know. I don't know what is happening. It's more surreal than last night. I'm freaking out enough right now without you saying things like 'I smell like her', Jesus god”

“Why did you two come here?”

“Uh... I think Lydia has decided to conquer the supernatural world. Starting with our friendly neighborhood wizard. Um. I have decided to help her because she asked me to.”

“Dude! You're finally getting some action!”

“Can you help me with this, then?”

Scott smiled, “I think I can. I'll try my best.”

“Yeah...”

 

By the time they got to the door, Lydia was already walking out.

“Scott. Hello. Why are you... Oh, right. You work here, don't you?”

Scott said, “Yeah, how did you know that?”

“Stiles and I had a long conversation last night. We talked about pretty much everything. The good Dr. Deaton came up as something like a wizard.”

“Dude. Exactly how much did you tell her?”

“Not now, Scotty.” Stiles turned towards Lydia, “Why the about face? Is he uncooperative or something?”

“Exactly right. Willing to help werewolves do whatever, but not willing to help involved people defend themselves. Maybe...” Lydia turned towards Scott, “Do you think you could help change his mind?”

Scott balked, “He's my boss. If he said n-”

Stiles's foot came down on Scott's, “Come on, old buddy ol' pal o' mine. Surely you can do something?

Scott grunted. “Fine. I'll try.”

 

Nothing new happened for a whole week.

 

Then, everything changed on one Saturday afternoon.

It started with a text from Scott.

'Imprnt stuff. Need 2 talk. Call back.'

Half an hour later Stiles was pulling up to the Hale house. He recognized Scott's bike, Jackson's porsche, and a certian black comaro peaking out from behind a corner or the building. Another three unknown vehicles were parked beside the porsche. Stiles parked his jeep and walked towards the house.

“I know you can hear me in there, Scott and... others. I will haunt you forever if I end up dead today.”

Scott opened the door as Stiles hopped up the half-charred steps. Some sort of angular symbol had been painted onto the door in fresh, dripping red paint.

“Hey. Glad you came so fast.” Scott said.

Stiles pointed towards the symbol.

“What is that? That's new, isn't it? Has the resident sourwolf decided to paint near-nazi symbols on his own house? I've even less cool about him now, more than ever.”

“This is serious, Stiles! I know you don't want to be out here. I wouldn't have called you if it wasn't really important.”

“Why do I feel like I'm going to be an appetizer in Derek's haunted mansion of human delicacies?”

Scott grabbed a hold of Stiles's arm and pulled the slightly-uncooperative teen into the house.

Inside of a mostly-intact living room echoed the sounds of arguing and growling.

Derek's eyes blazed red as he calmly stood in a dominant position among the group. Everyone else blended into the charred décor. Boyd and Erica sat together on the ground with their hands in each other's. Peter talked about something to Derek while Isaac and Jackson growled at each other. Dr. Deaton and Chris Argent and the guidance counselor from school stood in some sort of trifecta and softly spoke to each other and to Derek.

Lydia was the only bright spot in the room. Her strawberry blond hair looked perfectly in place. Her bright yellow sundress nearly glowed in the darkened innards of the Hale house.

Stiles spoke, “The guidance counselor? Ms. Morrell? What is she doing here? What am I doing here, Scott?”

Derek growled out an answer. The room fell silent. “An alpha pack is coming to town. You've already shown a spark for magic. Do I need to do the math for you, or can you figure it out yourself?”

“I'll just ask Deaton for that mountain ash supplier's phone number later, and leave you to the rest.” Stiles rotated his body, gulped for air for half a second, and began walking away.

Lydia's voice stopped him. “Come back here and sit with me, Stiles. Deaton has agreed to teach you and I more than just the trick with the mountain ash.”

His legs turned to jelly as he twisted himself back around. He quickly sat on the slightly charred bench, right next to Lydia. Jackson gave him the most ridiculously strange look. Something between freaking out, and pity.

Scott sat down beside Stiles.

“Alpha pack? How is that even a thing?” Stiles asked, turning around from Lydia to Scott as he spoke.

Scott shrugged. Lydia answered. “There are two kinds of magic. Inner, and outer. Werewolves are a brand of inner magic. All shifters are inner magic. When several wolves get together, and begin to knit ties to one another, they all begin to draw from a single pool of magic. This pool eventually comes to a head in the most dominant wolf of the group. That wolf transforms into an alpha. This transformation changes both how the pool works and their own ability to affect the strength of the group. This is why wolves are literally stronger when they are together. An alpha transforms into a nuclear generator and electrical grid while with everyone else remaining household generators.” Lydia paused. Stiles looked around the room to see everyone but Derek glance their way. Conversations among the wolves didn't die, but the growling went away.

Lydia continued, knowing that everyone who could listen was listening.

“Following so far?”

“Yeah...”

“Good. So once a beta has been transformed into an alpha their soul, that spark that drives all living things, that source of their magic, is also permanently transformed.”

Stiles motioned towards Peter, “What about that, then?”

“I have no idea. We can ask Deaton later. Anyway, back to my explanation: An alpha is the glue that holds a pack together, and that power can move from one wolf to another or even develop all on its own. Either through the death of the previous alpha into the victor of a death-match, or if the previous alpha dies unexpectedly. In that case the process of awakening an alpha among the betas begins again.”

“All the alpha power is, is just the ability to deepen the magic pool and transfer healing or strength, for example, quickly among the pack.” Lydia finished.

Stiles sat in awe as he listened to Lydia speak.

Scott spoke up, “So an alpha in a pack of alphas really is that much more dangerous than a single alpha in a normal pack?”

It was Deaton who spoke up this time. “Yes. If you want to quantify it with some number, the ability for Derek to heal himself with a pack of six wolves is something like a quarter of the power that a single alpha has in the alpha pack.”

Peter spoke, “And that is why we must leave. There is simply no way for us to take on the alpha pack. Even if they catch a few of us, the rest will live. There are ten of them. Each one worth an entire us.”

Stiles spoke, “I don't understand _how_ _we're even having this conversation_. If they wanted Derek why isn't Derek already dead?”

Derek spoke, “It's not that simple. They force me to bite people to bring them into my pack. Then they kill me to take my power for themselves. Then they pick off each new alpha that arises from the enlarged pack. It's a cycle they go though until all that remains is rabid omegas.”

The room fell silent.

Stiles broke the silence, “Oh. That seems awful.”

Chris spoke up. “The alpha pack marks the den of the pack they intend to hunt. That's what's painted on the front door. Hunters from around the world will be coming in to try and take out a piece of the alpha pack. This is one giant game to the alpha pack, but nothing but death and destruction for everyone else. This event usually ends with the marked pack and any nearby towns burned to the ground.”

“Back to the question: Why aren't we dead yet?” Lydia asked.

Chris said, “They give the marked pack five moons to get up to strength before the hunt begins. If we run, they start hunting immediately.”

Erica spoke. Anger and despair came out in choked sobs, “Boyd and me. We didn't... We didn't want to stay here anymore. But they cut us off when we tried to get out of town.”

Boyd spoke, “They said to either come back here, or die out there.”

Derek said, “That goes for everyone here. Anyone who has had dealings with this pack is marked.” He turned towards Chris, “Your daughter is marked too. You should know this. Why didn't she come with you?”

Scott growled. Chris remained silent.

Ms. Morrell spoke, “They don't always win. We have a chance. This is a game to them, and they like strong opponents. Five moons is enough time.”

“How?” Isaac and Scott said.

With a twinge of a smile, she said, “Stiles and Lydia will be learning outer magic from Deaton and I. We'll be the best chance for this area to survive.”

Lydia might have been delighted with the attention, but all Stiles did was flinch under glowing primary-colored eyes.

 _Huh, Red, yellow, and blue? I wonder if that means anything? Derek's eyes changed from blue to red when he became the alpha... That means they're magic eyes, and not just some sort of random genetic quirk._ _Maybe?_

Lydia smiled towards Stiles, “No pressure.”

_Yeah... She might be enjoying this a little bit too much._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like it when things are explained. I hope you did too.


	3. Scott.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott has a confrontation or three.

Stiles, Lydia, Deaton, and Morrell all left together. Stiles's jeep right behind Deaton's station wagon. One final nod from Chris to Scott and the hunter was gone too. All the wolves remained behind.

Derek spoke, “We're all in this now. We have to work together to survive. You all need to be trained.”

“How did this happen?” Jackson asked, “I haven't even been back to school yet, and now I'm in mortal danger once again?”

Scott said, “I thought you wanted all of this? All of this danger and death and god...” Scott turned towards Derek, “Does this mean my mother is in danger again?”

Isaac said, “That's at lease one upside to being an orphan. No parents to worry about getting caught in the crossfire.”

Peter said, “The alpha pack will go after any connections the marked pack has if they think the marked pack isn't cooperating. Cooperate with this and the only ones you put in danger are the people who were here today.... At least that's the theory. It almost never works out that way.”

“Real god-damn reassuring there.” Jackson said. “I'm gone. Lydia is going to be so much better at dealing with this than any of you jokers.”

Jackson made it one step towards the door before Derek blindsided him with a full body rush. A roar broke from deep within Derek as a clawed hand wrapped around Jackson's neck, shattering the resolve of the pinned teenager.

Derek growled, “You will be a part of this pack. You will listen to your alpha. You will not kill us with your insubordination or I will rip out your throat right now. This is no longer about what any single one of us wants.”

Boyd's voice was like a weightlifter walking across the ice of a freshly frozen river, “You knew this was going to happen. How long did you think we had before the alpha pack was going to come? Long enough to train us? Long enough for... for what? Derek? What was supposed to happen between biting us and the alpha pack arriving?”

Jackson's eyes glinted blue as Derek stood up. Derek offered a hand up, but his glowing red eyes did not offer Jackson the opportunity to reject the outstretched hand. With a moment's hesitation, Jackson reached for Derek and was pulled to his feet.

“The alpha pack doesn't just come after every single new alpha that arises. They never came to my family. They haven't been in North America for fifty years. There has to be a reason that they chose to come here. I don't know why they decided to do this to us. But the fact remains that this is happening. I didn't know this was going to happen. I planned around hunters, at the worst. I planned for a pack. A community. Whatever I wanted, it was not this. The Kanima was not supposed to happen. Gerard was not supposed to happen. Scott should have joined this pack long ago.” Derek turned towards Peter, “Laura was supposed to be alive. Everything is messed up. But it is what it is. Now that the alpha pack has marked us, our future is set until we can change it.”

When Peter tried to speak, Derek glowered and him and continued, “We're going to become a real pack before the alphas start their games. Besides coming over here whenever you can, we're going to rebuild this house into a suitable den.” Derek swept his eyes across every face in the room, “You're all welcome to live here if you've nowhere else to you'd rather be. We're going to have daily cookouts and training in the evenings. Every single day. Come to them. Be a part of this pack. We will be strong, together. Bring no-one that you don't want involved. Being involved might be a death-sentence, now.”

Derek stepped back and waited for his words to sink in.

Peter spoke, “They'll likely confront you individually. At the grocery store. At school. Outside your bedroom window. You might find them talking to your mother or father while you look on. This is a game to them. If you run, or show interest towards anything, they'll know exactly where your weak spots are.”

Derek continued, “There is another reason for rebuilding this house. It will be a safe spot when the games start. They won't fight you here unless you attack first.”

Peter said, “But they won't adhere to that rule if they don't want to. They're an entire pack of hyper-dominant alphas. They take what they want when they want it. And they'll take it exactly how they want to take it.”

Erica said, “You knew this was a possibility and still... You're a manipulative asshole. Tempting us with the fulfillment of dreams and whispers of power.” She paused, “My body was falling apart before this. I was just going to die in ten years anyway. At least now I have a chance to fight for my life. It's not like my drugged out father will miss me anyway. I'm in.”

Boyd said, “I turn 18 in three months and my foster parents don't really want me after that. Not like I want to be there, either. I'm in.”

Scott said, “18?”

“Not everyone has a stable home with an original parent, Scott. I was going to just take the GED, but my current foster parents insisted I attended an actual school.” Erica and Boyd wrapped their hands together. “And I'm glad they insisted I went.”

Isaac said nothing.

Jackson looked at Boyd before speaking to Derek, “I can get my father to help speed through the permits to rebuild. Or do you already have them?”

Peter spoke when Derek remained silent, “Thank you, Jackson. We do not have them yet.”

Scott said, “I'll be back tomorrow.”

Isaac spoke, “Me too.”

Isaac was the first one to leave the house.

Everyone else seemed to follow Isaac's lead. Soon, Peter and Derek were left alone in the burned out shell of the Hale House.

 

Scott arrived home to see his mother talking to a stranger on the porch. It was an innocent looking conversation, but the man sharing a pitcher of lemonade with his mother was not someone Scott had ever seen before. Tallish, wavy brown hair, with normal enough clothes as to not stand out from anyone else, he wasn't threatening in his demeanor or stance. Melissa smiled at him as Scott tried to figure out who he was.

As a strange smell drifted on the breeze, warning bells went off inside Scott's head.

Melissa turned to see her son leaping over his dropped bike. An aborted wave turned into a startled backtrack as she flinched away at Scott's golden eyes. Scott intervened between the stranger and his mother.

“Scott! What are you doing?” Melissa said with an edge of hysteria, “Sorry, John. Please exc-”

Scott growled, “Mom! He's a wolf. Don't run.”

Melissa's eyes went wide as John's eyes flashed nuclear red. She grabbed Scott's shoulders. Scott felt the terror in her grip. His own claws came out before he even knew what was happening.

John's face went from calm and clear to tripping on the edge of madness. “Don't be like that. Put away your claws, Scott. This is your final warning.”

Scott tried to calm down. As his mother's fingers unclenched, so did his own claws retract.

John's face went back to something resembling calm. “Derek and Peter taught you well. I'm glad to see you can listen. If you play the game, no one gets hurt until we start the hunt.” John sipped at his lemonade, “I'm surprised your mother wasn't at that meeting with the rest of you. She is a part of this. She knows about werewolves. Just so we're clear, anyone that knows is involved. Don't bother trying to say you're not in the same pack. You're all in this together. If one of you runs away, we start the hunt right then and there. You can bring that information back to your alpha when you see him.” John set his drink down. With a calm smirk and normal brown eyes, he turned and left.

Neither Scott or his mother relaxed until John turned the corner around the neighbor's house and disappeared.

 

Scott talked to Melissa until it was time for her to leave for work.

“Don't run from them. Derek said to never run. It's an open invitation to start the hunt... I love you, Mom. We'll get through this.” Scott said.

“That last part sound like something that I should be saying. I love you too. I'll see you in the morning.”

With a tight hug, Melissa stepped away and into her car. After her taillights vanished around the corner, Scott got on his bike and headed back to the Hale House. The sun had set by the time he got there.

A bonfire roared behind the house. Flickering sparks of light shot up into the night and extinguished somewhere in the breeze above the trees.

Isaac leaned in the shadows of a tree. His eyes glinted yellow as he looked into the darkness away from the bonfire.

“Hey.” Scott said. “I thought you left for the night?”

“I have nowhere to go.” Isaac glanced his way, “Derek thinks they're after more than just his alpha power. They came here for a reason, and that reason might have to do with all the shit from last month. They might have come for the kanima.”

“Jackson? He's a wolf now, isn't he?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. He's still a snake, if you ask me.” Isaac stood up, “Here to see Derek?”

“Yeah. I need to talk to him.”

“He's an asshole for doing this to us.”

Scott looked around before looking at Isaac, “I don't like him much right now either. But this is not his fault. If we stick together, we might live through this.” Scott paused. “One of them was at my house. John, was his name. He threatened... I know you might not have a biological family anymore, but everyone here is involved in this now. If we stick together like a pack, we might make it out in one piece.”

Isaac looked away, “How can you be so sure that Derek is the right choice? He has done nothing right ever since he became the alpha. Failure after failure. How does the decision to come together even happen for you? How can you possibly think that is the right thing to do?”

“I'll do whatever it takes to save the ones I love. I was that before any of this werewolf stuff. Right now, the alpha pack considers us all in the same pack. They won't care if we say different. A single pack is stronger than a bunch of omegas. United we stand, divided we fall, and all that stuff.”

“I still don't know...” Isaac starred off into the darkness. “Derek got some steaks. Want one?”

Scott's stomach rumbled at the thought of meat.

“Yeah. Let's go talk to him.”

Derek waited beside a makeshift grill. A sheet of coals dragged from the fire gently glowed beneath a metal grate. The smells of sizzling steak assaulted Scott's nostrils. Derek flipped a fresh steak onto the grill.

“Glad to see you came back. Though, I was expecting you tomorrow. Your steak is almost done, Isaac.” Derek pointed to a small table next to a cooler full of beer. “Plates are over there. I just put a steak on for you, Scott.”

Peter leaned against a tree as he sipped on his own beer.

Scott said, “You can't even get drunk anymore. Why the beer?”

“Well. If you think that, you just haven't tried hard enough.” Peter smiled, “It still tastes good even if it takes a keg to get drunk. There's soda in there too, if you want that instead.”

Isaac grabbed a plate and headed towards Derek. With a manner that could only be described as friendly, Derek placed a steak on Isaac's plate. “How do you like your's, Scott?”

“Medium. I need to talk to you, too.”

“This one is nearly medium. It'll be a few minutes then we can sit down and talk.”

Derek smiled as he flipped a pair of steaks over.

 

An hour later, after Scott's tale of meeting one of the alphas, Derek making them all second steaks, and a discussion of how the house was going to be rebuilt, they stumbled onto the subject of Allison.

“I still love her.” Scott said, “But after all that has happened... I know she needs time. I hope that she comes back to me before everything starts happening again.”

Peter said, “The daughter of a hunter. At least this time Gerard isn't in the picture anymore.”

Derek growled.

Peter took notice of the growl, “We need to be a pack. Painful things need to be talked about.”

“Then how about we talk about how you killed my sister? Your niece! She looked up to you. How did you even do... No. We're not talking about Kate. We're not talking about Laura. We're not talking about Scott's feelings for Allison. I'm going to say this, and then we're done with this conversation for today: Chris is a much better influence than Gerard. Allison might not turn out like Kate. But she is a hunter's daughter. Her mom killed herself because she was turning into a wolf. Gerard had a stranglehold on Allison's life until a week ago. Just think about that while you're thinking of waiting for Allison... Because she might not see you as anything other than an abomination.”

Scott got up without a word, threw his plate in the trash, and walked away. Isaac joined Scott seconds after Scott vanished into the night.

“Can I stay with you for a while?” Isaac asked.

“Uh. Sure, man. At least, I think that's alright. We have a guest bedroom that Stiles stays in sometimes.” Scott grabbed his bike and walked alongside it, “I know it'd be fine for one night, at least.”

“For what it's worth, I hope things work out between you and Allison.”

Scott smiled, “Thanks, man.”

They walked together through the darkness.

 

 


	4. Jackson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson goes back to school.   
> People are confused.

Besides the half dozen awkward situations between the police and one peculiar insurance adjuster, everything was going a lot better for Jackson in the past week than the previous months. No more blackouts, no more waking up to half-remembered dreams of washing away blood, and most importantly, even more than he thought he needed: Lydia and he were back together.

His adoptive parents warmed up over the course of three days. To end the hostilities, Jackson offered one “I love you” and his mom was crying on his shoulder. When his dad stopped cursing long enough to realize that his wife had just forgiven Jackson, the three of them embraced for a good five minutes.

_I need to stop thinking of them as my adoptive parents. Lydia even said so. It will help me to remain in control._

Hunters in the FBI, police, hospital, and other agencies cut off any investigation before it could start. Some hunter posing as an FBI official filled Jackson in on exactly how much he owed everyone.

Jackson merely said, “If you didn't want this to remain hidden, then you shouldn't have done anything to hide it. You don't want to be out in the open any more than I do. So get the hell off this property before everyone's secrets start spilling out like blood from an artery.”

The hint took well enough. Threatening to harm a hunter was probably not the best idea, but Jackson didn't meet any more fake FBI agents.

With most of the initial commotion dying down, the existence of an alpha pack, and exactly how much shit he was in for, was revealed one Saturday afternoon.

_I haven't even gotten back to school yet, and this is happening?_

Boyd being an 18 year old orphan was an emotional shock he wasn't exactly ready for.

_It could be worse. I could have no money and no family that loves me, as well as been controlled to kill dozens and dozens of people. How did Boyd avoid becoming a Kanima? Was it really that easy for him to choose the be a part of a pack?_

Before he knew it, he was offering his father's services to speed the reconstruction of the hale house.

_I'll probably be paying for some of the lumber, too. But that... That is okay._

_I almost don't mind that a pack is being forced onto me._

Going back to school on Monday was a shock. By then, Lydia had spun so many lies that most people just looked at Jackson like he was some sort of enigma. The only one that looked at him with something other than mystery in their eyes was Danny.

“Danny! Am I glad to see you! Why won't you return my calls?”

Danny sucker-punched Jackson to the ground.

“What the fucking fuck, you fuck!” Danny yelled before storming off.

The shock of the punch hurt more than the actual contact. The crowd all around Jackson stared, waiting for something to happen.

“What the fuck are you all looking at?” Jackson yelled.

Lydia appeared out of nowhere. Taking hold of Jackson's hand and pulling him back to his feet, they moved together through the wide-eyed crowd.

“I completely forgot about Danny.” Lydia said, “In retrospect, I should have planned for this. Go, find him and say you're sorry.”

Jackson wiped the blood away from his nose and nodded.

Finding Danny was easy enough. If the trailing smell of pineapple and armani wasn't already such a distinctive path in the halls of the school, the crying coming from a nearby boy's bathroom would have also given it away.

Jackson opened the door to the bathroom.

“Danny? I know you're in here.”

“Go the fuck away. You were dead! I thought Lydia was tricking everyone. I hoped she wasn't but shit! You were dead! I saw you not breathing on the field! I saw the blood! Fuck you!”

One of the stalls opened. An unknown freshman walked out. At a glare from Jackson the kid ran out of the room without washing his hands. Jackson checked the remaining stalls for people. With no one else inside, Jackson locked the door to the bathroom.

Standing outside the only occupied stall, Jackson waited with his arms folded across his chest.

“Look, man. We can't be doing this. Come out of there. Let's talk.”

“What the fuck is there to talk about? Which is the real story, huh? Did your real parents show up and you needed to... Fuck. It's lies all the way down, isn't it? I can't even repeat any of the stories I heard without... crying, now. You fucking died. Or you didn't and you didn't feel like telling your goddamn best friend?”

“I tried to call afterward. You didn't pick up.”

“You were fucking dead!”

“Come out of there.”

“I think your goddamn face broke my goddamn hand.”

Jackson stifled a laugh.

“Now you're fucking laughing at me? Damn you!”

“I'd explain, if you would come out from there.”

The door to the stall slammed open. Danny stepped out with his face locked in a death-glare.

“The truth. All of it. Now.”

“I want to tell you. But if I do, you might die in several months. Still want to know?”

“You fucking fuck.”

Danny headed for the door to the bathroom but Jackson was quicker.

“I'm serious as a heart attack. There are secrets between best friends, then there are secrets.”

“You're not lying to me, are you? What sort of shit are you mixed up with, Jax? Is it a drug cartel? Some mafia shit? Government experiment gone wrong?”

“Do you really want to know? Because I really want to tell you. But it will put your life in danger. I'm not lying about that last part. You become a part of this and there is no going back.”

Danny stopped. His face softened. His eyes turned caring.

“Are you high right now?” Danny looked Jackson over from head to toe. “Are you on steroids? You're bigger than you were before. Was the government experiment story the real one?”

Jackson sniffed the air.

“What the fuck was that? Sniffing? Is it coke, or what?” Danny backed away.

“You're attracted to me now! So I put on twenty pounds of muscle and you... You like that!”

“So what? Does that really surprise you? You've seen my boyfriends before.” Danny snapped, “Stop changing the goddamn subject. We've always been friends, Jax, but you've never done anything like this to me. This whole situation really fucking hurts.”

“Back to the question: Do you want to know? Because it does put you in danger.”

“Fucking just tell me for fuck's sake!”

Jackson smiled. “I'll show you instead. Just promise not to yell.”

“What? Are you the fucking hulk now? Fine. I promise.”

Jackson flicked his hands open as blue light shone from his eyes. Danny didn't notice the claws until Jackson waved his hands though the air.

“You...” Danny whispered, “...What? You have claws.”

Jackson sniffed the air before staring at the tent in Danny's pants.

“And it turns you on, doesn't it? I'm told you. I am everyone's type.”

Jackson laughed as he put his claws away.

Danny spoke, “Do it again. And stop perving on me. I can't help it.”

“What-thefuck-ever. You like it!”

“Flick those goddamn claws out again.”

Jackson complied. “I bet I could pick you up now, too. I'm a lot stronger.”

“You're not about to wrap those arms around me when you have claws!”

“Then I'll just put them away.”

Jackson's hands went back to normal in an instant. Danny reached over and grabbed Jackson's hand. A fresh tear fell to land on Jackson's hand.

“You're really here. This isn't a dream.” Danny said.

Jackson grabbed Danny in his arms and laughed as he pushed Danny towards a wall. Danny returned the embrace and lifted Jackson into a bear-hug. They both laughed. When someone knocked on the bathroom door they froze in each other's arms.

“Go away!” Jackson yelled.

Lydia's voice vibrated through the door. “I sent the hallway monitor away once already. He is going to come back in ten minutes. You two don't have much more alone-time. Is everything going well?”

Jackson snickered. “Everything is great, Honey.”

“I'm going now.” Lydia said. Trailing footsteps vanished on the other side of the closed door.

Danny said. “Holy fuck, Jax. You're alive, and some sort of were-creature? Magic exists? Please tell me you're a werewolf and not like, a wererabbit.”

“You can concentrate through your massive boner enough to guess correctly?”

“You like the attention. Don't deny it. And yes. Of course I can concentrate through hormones. Been doing it for years now.”

Danny stared at Jackson's lips as the gentle blue light from Jackson's eyes illuminated Danny's face. Jackson leaned forward. Danny's lips tasted faintly of pineapple and heavily of lust.

Danny pulled away. “What? You've never gone that far.”

“You never acted like you wanted it. Or, at least, I could never smell your arousal so clearly like I can now.”

“You can smell me? Freak. What else can you do?” Danny peeled away from Jackson's grasp. “Goddamn, you're hot.”

“I know!”

“No. I mean. Besides the obvious. Your temperature seems higher than normal.”

Jackson suddenly felt cold.

“Oh yeah. It is. I am. About a hundred and two.”

“What else can you do? Full doggie?” Danny smiled.

“It's a bit ugly. But it's not a full wolf.”

“Do it.”

Jackson shifted until the bones of his face reorganized.

Danny laughed. “Ouch. At least you still have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen. Such big teeth, too. Say... Got a knot on your dick?”

“No. Freak.”

“But you knew what I was talking about. You like it.”

“Yeah. So?”

Jackson shifted all the way back to himself.

“I'm serious about the mortal danger now. We can talk about it after school.”

“You really do have the prettiest eyes. I wish all my boyfriends had eyes that glowed. Purple would be really attractive. Maybe white! That would look cool.”

“Do you live on a diet of pineapple? I know it's your favorite food and all, but you smell so much like pineapple it's ridiculous.”

Danny smiled, “Not armani?”

“That's just the obvious smell. I didn't think it was worth mentioning.”

“Well, you see: Pineapple makes come taste better. Red meat makes it taste bad. I know we've had this conversation before.”

“Right. I forgot.” Jackson smiled.

“I'm a considerate kind of person,” Danny paused before they opened the bathroom door. “I'm glad you're alive. But you didn't answer anything related to your fake-death.”

Jackson smiled. “I'll pick you up from your house after school. Then, we can talk. It'd going to be a long night.”

 

Even Stilinski sitting next to Lydia at lunch didn't annoy Jackson as much as he thought it might. There was this calm sort of peace that welled up from the hidden recesses of his mind whenever he looked at Lydia, or whenever Lydia looked at him. Stilinski was nothing but a toy to be used and discarded when he was no longer useful.

_She may flirt with everyone. She may twist them all around her fingers. Work them over until they do whatever she wants. They don't even know that they've sold their soul to her until she leaves them with nothing._

_But she is mine. And I am hers._

_I know this now._

Stilinski's tone changed, breaking Jackson from his reverie, “Your boyfriend looks like he wants to eat you.”

Lydia looked up at Jackson with a smile to light up the room. “He wouldn't dare.” Her tone changed to something scandalous as her eyes shifted around in an obvious display to whoever might be watching, “Not in public, anyway.”

Stilinski looked like he was about to cry. The smell of desperation wafted from him like the stink of a trashcan. Lydia smelled like vanilla and black currant. Jackson focused on Lydia to the exclusion of all others.

_I would feel more sorry for you, Stilinski, if you weren't so stupid._

Pineapple exploded into his nose when Danny sat down beside him. McCall and Stilinski took notice when Danny whispered into his ear.

“What're we going to talk about after school? Can you give me a hint?”

McCall whispered out a yell, “What the hell, Jackson?”

The constant noise of the lunchroom didn't hint at a reaction from the nearby tables.

Jackson leaned back. “I told him about the wolf thing. Later, he's going to come with me to the hale place.”

Danny leaned forward, “You all know too? How long has this been going on?”

Stilinski was sarcastic as ever, “Oh. At least since this morning.”

Lydia spoke, “I only found out about ten days ago. This conversation can't happen here. We'll all going to the den later. I'll explain all of it then. For now: Let's go back to talking about Stiles's choice of attire.”

Jackson balked, “That's what you two were droning on about? I tuned out everything since Stilinski opened his mouth.”

“You're such an asshole. If we weren't in this together I'd put you in your place.”

Jackson laughed. “I doubt you could hurt a fly with an electrified flyswatter. When the time comes, all you're going to be good for is a distraction. Maybe if we dress you up in a tutu you'll be able to distract better.”

Lydia's tone had an edge to it, “Dear...”

“Fine! I'll stop.” Jackson offered.

Lydia turned back towards Stilinski, “All I'm saying is that I'd like to take you out shopping sometime. Replace that red hoodie you're so fond of. Surely you see the irony is wearing something like that around... all of this.”

“I like my hoodie.”

McCall smiled like the idiot he would always be.

“Danny and I can pick up some food for tonight. We'll meet you there before six.”

Jackson smiled towards Danny before returning to smelling everything.

“There better be some damn good explanation coming later, Jax,” Danny said.

Stilinski and McCall were distractions that stuck in his nose. They both had a distinct odor that was very clearly them. Jackson decided to label them trashcan and idiot. Danny and Lydia both smelled really good though. Great, even.

Pineapple, and a mix of vanilla and black currant.

Sunshine yellow and a bright sort of darkness.

Delicious.

 

 


	5. Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles maybe learns one thing.  
> The Sheriff learns much more.
> 
> I'm not sure where I saw it first, but someone gave the Sheriff the first name Jed. I liked that name for him.  
> So that is his name here, too.

When school ended that Monday afternoon Stiles hopped into his jeep. With a moment of pause, he stared at bag sitting under the back seat. One final piece of the present he was going to give Lydia for her birthday.

_I thought she would have liked this stuff. She didn't even give it a second look when she was in my room. Why did I listen to those queens?_

_Of course, Lydia doesn't want costume jewelry._

_Why would I have thought she wanted a TV? Goddamn I'm stupid._

A pang of embarrassment hit sharp and sudden, and Stiles found himself hitting his head into the steering wheel.

Lunch had been too much, now that Jackson was back. He saw how Lydia and Jackson interacted. It was as though every painful thing that had ever come between them was erased. Or, if not erased, the pain had turned inconsequential compared to the love.

“She won't ever love me, will she?”

Stiles turned on the jeep and headed out to the mall on the far end of town.

_...I think I had 30 days to return this stuff._

 

The stores took back most of the unwanted costume jewelry and trinkets. With his wallet not feeling like the great depression, Stiles got back in his jeep and headed for home. On the edge of the mall parking lot, his phone began to ring. It was his dad.

“Dad? What's up?”

“Oh thank god, you picked up! Where are you? Are you okay?” The panic in his voice was unmistakable.

“I returned some stuff at the mall. I'm allowed to do that, right?”

“You're not lying to me again, are you?”

“No, Dad. Not everything I say is a lie.”

“Someone broke into the house. They left pretty much everything alone... Except for your room.”

“... What.”

“Just come home. We'll talk more when you get here.”

 

As Stiles pulled around the corner towards his house, one of the three police cruisers parked at his home turned off its lights and pulled out of the driveway. Stiles parked in the street. The Sheriff's un-lit cruiser sat cock-eyed in the pavement. Another cruiser sat with the front half in the grass and the back half in the driveway, just inches away from Mom's flowerbed. Stiles had manged to keep most of the flowers alive since her passing, but the sudden encroachment of the cruiser caused anger to override his concern for his room. Some strange new female officer stepped out of the front door to his house.

The woman glanced at Stiles before turning back around, “Are you sure you don't want assistance with this, Jed?”

Sheriff Jed Stilinski stepped out of the doorway, “Not right now. See, I'm going to kill my son. Then nothing needs to be protected. Then maybe I can eat a burger and fries in peace.”

Stiles stammered, “Uh... I might take you up on that offer, Ms. Unknown Officer. We can't leave my father's health unprotected.”

“Stiles.” Jed motioned for the woman to leave. “I'll arrange something at the station, later. Thanks, Mary.”

The smile on Mary's face was something Stiles did not expect to see.

_If something bad happened in there... Why is she smiling?_

“I'm going to need the truth today, Son.”

He slapped the wooden edge of the door frame, right below inch deep slices through the wood.

“Uh. Bears? What would a bear want with my room? Do bears live here?”

Mary turned off the lights on her cruiser and gently pulled out of the driveway. She was gone by the time Jed resumed interrogating Stiles.

“Yes. There are bears around here. Theoretically. Beacon Hills hasn't had a bear complaint in ages, but our neighbor cities get them all the time.”

“I'm pretty sure I don't have any bear-attractant in my room...”

“Stiles!” Jed snapped, “Get in here.”

Stiles followed his father through the house, towards his room.

A single large gash had been raked along the vinyl flooring towards the stairs. Another long gash in the drywall left chunks of dusty plaster on the staircase. The door to his room had a heart carved into the wood.

“Stiles,” Jed said, “Do you have a secret homicidal admirer?”

“I hope not! What the fuck is this?!” Stiles rushed towards his room.

“I'm happy you're at least as surprised at this as I am.” Jed scowled, “Or you've learned to lie really well.”

Stiles ran his finger along the rough cuts in the wood. Inside the room, everything was much the same as Stiles left it, except for a bouquet of brilliant blue flowers sitting on his desk. Stiles made to touch them but Jed reached out and grabbed Stiles's hand.

“Evidence. Don't touch. A forensic team will be here in twenty. They're going to go through your room with a fine tooth comb.”

“What?!” Stiles stammered. “But Da-”

“Don't even start, Stiles. Just be thankful you got home before they did. I'm going to leave you alone until they get here... Use that time to get rid of whatever incriminating stuff you have in your room and put it in your suitcase. We can put that in another part of the house until they do their job.”

“I don't have anything of the sort. Nothing at all. Why would you think that I did?”

Stiles leaned away and tried to not look towards his closet. Jed tracked the movement.

“They're going to check the closet, too. Don't touch anything that could be a part of this investigation.”

And with that, Jed left the room.

Stiles dashed to close the door to the room and rip open the door to the closet. Nothing looked obviously different. He pulled out a mostly unused suitcase jammed in the back behind a box of old school stuff. It still had a pamphlet from that trip to the Florida keys from two years ago.

Nearly falling over himself he set to work with the rest of the room. The stash of physical porn he hid in a box under his bed went into the suitcase. Along with that went his triple-packed container of pot. Even a werewolf would have trouble smelling it through all of those layers. He tested it with Scott. His laptop got a thorough cleaning of its search history. As much as ten minutes would allow, anyway.

Lastly, there was one thing that he didn't want anyone finding, especially his father. A mostly modest sized dildo.

That too, was packed behind two layers of freezer-tough ziplock baggie. It wasn't packed like this before, but if _he_ could vaguely smell it with his human senses, a werewolf would definitely be able to smell the hint of sex-toy latex.

He got it during a Johnny Deep phase he had a year ago, but hardly used it at all since then.

_Okay. Fine. I am bisexual. Whatever, miss perfect-knowledge Lydia._

A hint of blue and green behind the layers of plastic freaked Stiles more than the acceptance of his sexuality.

“What the fu...”

Opening the bag, Stiles dumped out the bouncy tan dildo and a dozen short stemmed blue flowers. A small note was the last thing to fall out.

 

Wolf's bane is blue

An Alpha's love is red,

I'm coming for you,

We'll have a fun time in bed.

Ps: You're going to need a bigger one of these. I'll give you till the start of the games to get ready.

 

An involuntary yelp echoed in the quiet room.

“Did I just do that?” Stiles asked himself. When no answer came forth, Stiles said, “I guess I did.”

Stiles packed everything back together except for one of the small flowers and the note. Those went into his pocket. Someone would know about the flower. The letter he would burn before anyone else could see it.

Into the suitcase vanished every embarrassing thing he couldn't show anyone. By the time it was all safely hidden in the garage the forensic team arrived at the front of the house.

“I'm going to go over to Scott's while they do their job. I don't want to see this.” Stiles told his Dad.

“Care to rephrase that?”

“Um... May I go over to Scott's so that I don't have to see my life torn apart?”

“I'm going to have an officer drive you over there.”

“Dad! I can drive myself. If some axe wielding psycho wanted to kill me they would have already done so, not leave me a love note.”

“There was a note?”

Stiles waved his arms, “This whole thing was a love note! A creepy ass note not exactly written with words.”

Jed squinted his eyes as he looked down at his son.

“Besides,” Stiles said, “I can charm my way out of being chopped liver long enough for you to rescue me, if you have to.”

“You don't get it! Do you!” Jed lowered his voice when two forensic team members looked up from their work. Jed led Stiles down the hallway into his room and closed the door. “This is serious. Shit like this doesn't happen without a body or an arrest in the end. Are you really not scared right now? Why are you not scared? I'm terrified right now. My son's life is in danger and he doesn't even think that anything is wrong. I'm not even sure which part is more terrifying. The fact that you don't even think about changing your schedule, or that someone did this half an hour after you were supposed to be home. Stiles! They did this when you were supposed to be here! Do you not get that?”

“Dad.”

“Don't 'Dad' me! You know what is happening and it doesn't concern you as much as it should!”

“....”

“Stiles! Talk to me!”

Stiles slumped into a nearby chair. Jed sat on his bed.

“Just talk to me. Son. You can tell me anything. Please. Just let it be the truth.”

Stiles sniffled, put one hand over his face, and turned away.

“I'll believe you if you tell me the truth.” Jed said.

“If I involve you... They'll mark you too.”

The air went ridged. Tears threatened to start falling.

Jed breathed, slowly and with purpose, “I won't get mad. Talk to me. It's my job to fix things. I can handle being marked. To every drug runner or psycho out there I already have a bulls-eye on my back. You're too young to have problems like this. I'm an old man that has been around the block thousands of times.”

“You won't believe me.”

“I will. Please.”

“Fine. Remember, when you start thinking that I belong in a mental institution, that you pried this out of me.”

Jed waited. Stiles purged broken whispers of the supernatural.

Names were left out, but Stiles knew he would have to eventually give those up.

 

Half an hour later, during one of the many pauses in the conversation, Jed spoke up.

“This would explain the hand-width in the markings on the front door frame. As well as the purposed claw marks on your door... They are claw marks, aren't they.”

“It wasn't anyone I know. They're from out of town. I'm not showing you the note they left, but please, just trust me that it's bad.”

“So there was an actual note. You don't have to show me. On a scale of one to dead, how threatening is the note?”

“It's... Sexually threatening. And more. Okay?”

Jed stood up, walked around the room, and sat back down.

“Why the flowers? They're not normal. I can only assume they mean something.”

“It's wolf's bane. It's usually poisonous to them. I don't know why one of them gave me a bouquet of poison.” Sudden realization caused Stiles to stand up. “You can't tell anyone! If you tell them, they're involved!”

“I'm not going to tell anyone. On the bright side: It feels good to finally be in on the secret.” Jed laughed, “These 'Hunters'. They're in a lot of organizations, aren't they?”

“Yeah. Bud at the station was one. Didn't save him from the Kanima, though.”

“Is that was happened at the station? Another monster? Is that why Melissa won't talk about it?” Jed stood up, “That explains why you hated Bud, though. Did he ever do anything to you?”

“Uh... No. He was stopped by one of my wolf friends.”

Jed's face was red with anger. It had been various shades of anger for the last twenty minutes.

“He took strange interest in almost every animal attack case that came through our doors. I just thought it was a quirk. Now...”

Stiles's face went pale as he collapsed down into a chair, “I think I've killed you with knowledge. You're involved now.”

Jed pulled Stiles up and into his arms. Through Stiles's gross sobbing, Jed spoke. “I'm the Sheriff. I've chosen to be involved in all the evil that comes into this little town. Even if I wasn't the sheriff anymore I'd still want to protect you. I'm glad you've chosen to let me help.”

“But-”

A knock on their door broke them apart.

“Yeah?” Jed said.

A forensic guy poked his head into the room, “We're done now. Your room is cleared. Doesn't look like anything was done besides the marks on the door and the bouquet. Nothing that was obvious, anyway. Hard to tell with a teenager's room.”

“Do you know what species of flower it is?” Jed asked.

“Wolfsbane-something-or-other. My mom used to grow the stuff. Always warned us not to touch it. Any idea why someone would give you poisonous flowers?”

“Not really!” Stiles said.

“It'll be identified in the lab. We'll have a full report for you in two days, Sheriff. We're going now.”

Boots slapped vinyl as the forensic guy left the house.

Stiles and Jed both moved over into Stiles's room.

“If you see anyone with glowing eyes, especially if they're red, don't run. If they're stronger than... the guy I know... a bullet won't do much. You'll just piss 'em off if you shot them with anything other than a wolfsbane bullet. And even then, I'm not sure how much damage you could actually do.”

“So you're really safe for the next five... Moons, is it?”

“Theoretically.”

“I can see why you're not freaking out at this. That would just be doing exactly what they want.”

“Not in an effort to end this bonding thing that's going on right now, because it feels really good to talk to you about this, but can I go to the meeting? We're supposed to be having a meeting tonight. Every night. I'm not going over to Scott's. But there is a meeting with everyone that I need to go to.”

“Is Scott in on this? Does Melissa know about this stuff?”

Stiles cringed, “Yes, and yes.”

“When did she find out?”

“The night of the police station massacre.”

“And now I have someone else to talk to about this.” Jed smiled. “You probably don't know this. But you telling me the truth right now, and me being able to _know_ that it's the truth, even if it does sound like a lie at first... It's the best feeling I've had in a long time.”

“Yeah well...”

“I'm not coming tonight. But I am coming eventually. I have Wednesday night free. I'm coming then. Make sure your friends are aware.”

“O... Okay. Dad.” Stiles grabbed his red hoodie off of the back of his chair.

Jed laughed. “Seriously? A red hoodie?”

“Lydia laughed too. What? I like it. It's comfortable.”

Jed stopped laughing, “How are things with you and Lydia, anyway? You never hung out with her until that Whittemore kid came back from the dead. Is she a wolf, too?”

“No. Of course she isn't! Where did that come from?”

“She was in the hospital with bite marks and scars for a long time. Isn't that how it works? One bite and you start howling at the full moon and buying anti-flea products.”

“She never turned. I always said she was special, now everyone else knows it too.” Stiles smiled.

Jed sighed.

Stiles said, “What?”

“When did she start paying attention to you?”

“The night Jackson came back to life.”

“Did she ask you for anything?”

“Just information. She even paid for the food while we talked. No one had told her anything, and yet she was right in the middle of everything.”

“And then what did she want from you?”

“We just went to the local wizard to see if he would teach us anything.”

“We have a local... Wizard?” Jed huffed, “Back to the point: So she wanted your help to learn... Magic? I take it.”

“I don't think I like where this is going.” Stiles said.

“And I don't like it when some girl, that knows she has my son wrapped around her finger, goes around and uses him to get what she wants.”

“She isn't using me, Dad! It's mutual. She even wants to go shopping with me to buy me new clothes.” Stiles held out the red hoodie, “She doesn't like this thing either.”

“And when you wake up to the fact she doesn't like you unless you can give her what she wants, I'll be here to help you cope.”

“It's not like that.” Stiles held his hoodie close. “Is it?”

“I just want you to go through life with your eyes open. I hope I'm wrong. But I hope, that if I'm right, that you're strong enough to not let her use you again.”

Awash in the oranges and yellows of the setting sun, everything felt much smaller than it really was. Stiles had to get out of there.

One quick hug and Jed let him go, “I love you, Son.”

Stiles turned around and waved once, “I love you too, Dad.”

Stiles slipped his hoodie on and hopped back into his jeep. The road to the Hale House was empty. When the house eventually came into view, so did several cars. Scott's bike and an unknown bike leaned together on the front porch.

A few lights were on inside the house. Some semblance of electricity must have been restored to at least the bottom level. Small talk drifted on the air from behind the house. A bonfire shot sparks up past the treetops. As Stiles turned the corner, Scott greeted Stiles with a soda and a hug.

“I'm glad you made it. I was getting ready to call you.”

One sniff and Scott's demeanor changed. Concern replaced mirth.

“What's wrong?”

“You know how you saw an alpha? I only got a creepy ass love letter. I had to tell my father everything.”

Most of the talk from beside the bonfire vanished.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ms. Morrell needs a first name.  
> I'm thinking Monica.


	6. Derek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek reacts to new information.  
> Danny makes a decision.

Ever since the meeting on Saturday, and even more so since that day's impromptu cookout with three out of the six possible friendly wolves, Derek was getting stronger, and gaining better control.

Quantitatively stonger.

Ten days ago, when Peter was the only one that treated Derek with half a nod to his status as an alpha, he had barely been able to clean and jerk four hundred pounds. Before Peter was resurrected, when Boyd, Erica, and Isaac all trusted him and they were a real pack, he was able to clean and jerk well over a thousand pounds. He probably could have done more, if there was a set-up in a gym that wasn't already falling apart at the thousand pound mark.

But now it was Sunday, and the majority of the pack was here...

Standing over the grill, serving up steak or chicken as fast as everyone could eat, was a thrill of power. Even grilling up slices of potato and ears of corn for Lydia and Stiles was pleasant.

Everyone was together. Forced, though it may be, together was better than separate. These two cookouts turned into a team building exercise in so many ways. It could have gone better. There was definite room for improvement. But Lydia and Stiles helped to calm a lot of frayed nerves. Lydia, through tactful manipulation. Stiles through sarcasm and wit.

It would take time to make a real pack. Everyone had issues with everyone else. Jackson was an unrepentant ass. Peter terrified Lydia by being anywhere that was not directly in her sights and at least ten yards away. It would take time for trust to build.

_At least Scott and Isaac are getting along without any issue. When we've fixed up the place, maybe Isaac will want to move back here._

Peter and Derek were the only ones living in the house at the moment. Isaac had moved into the McCall house for now. Boyd and Erica were staying together in her parent's house. Jackson and Lydia were practically attached at the hip and stayed at each other's houses as they saw fit.

Everyone who was involved was making an effort to be there in the evening.

Except Allison. She had said ' _NO_ ' to the pack meetings. Chris had mentioned that they were doing their own thing, instead. Coordination would happen, but not on Derek's terms. Scott was upset at that, but didn't let it effect his interactions with everyone else.

The group was set to get better with time, and that was enough, for now.

 

Then everyone went home for the night and soon enough it was Monday.

 

Jackson showed up around four in the afternoon. Out of his porsche came a cooler full of meat, and one slightly mollified Danny. Lydia did not arrive with them.

Derek paused on the porch and crossed his arms. Anger welled up. His eyes might have shifted red.

Unbidden, came the soft voice of Peter, “This can be a good thing. Don't run off your chance at a future before it even starts. They're obviously important to each other.”

Derek inhaled, exhaled, and put on a not-exactly-angry face.

 

And so, Derek found himself slicing pineapple for the grill as Jackson and Danny fixed up the bonfire for the night.

All week long, Derek and Peter had been demolishing old rotten walls and separating them by demolition trash, or wood suitable for a bonfire. Most of the back half of the house was already gone. By Wednesday, they'd be tearing apart the front half of the house. By Thursday, Jackson should have the permits to rebuild. On Friday they could start. Electrical contractors, plumbers, and orders for lumber had been lined up for the weeks afterward.

For now, the intact front living room served as a meeting room, a kitchen, a bedroom, and anything else they needed, except for a bathroom. That was outside, far away and in a rough circle surrounding the property grounds.

Derek hadn't met one of the alpha pack yet.

They were probably doing that on purpose.

They seemed to enjoy terrifying Derek's betas, though.

Boyd and Erica were the first they terrified. Those two were still shaken by the encounter. Eventually, Boyd divulged what was probably the most accurate analogy to that horrible meeting.

_It was like standing on a plain of grass, but suddenly you turn around and you're at the base of a cliff. Then another thousand-foot cliff looms above you from the other side. Then you're at the bottom of an abyss. With a roar, the bottom drops out and you're falling into a darkness of claws and teeth._

_It was a surreal event that left more of an impression emotionally than physicaly._

Derek stopped slicing as he heard the footsteps of Danny and Jackson trail beyond sight of the house. They stopped when they were on the far side of the property, past a rocky drop, and in a place Jackson likely thought out of earshot. With how quiet they were, they normally would have been safe from prying ears. But Derek was getting stronger.

_If they alphas wanted too, they could probably hear us from anywhere in town._

_...I'm not sure if I should tell the pack that._

Danny whispered to Jackson. “I want to be a wolf, too.”

“Are you sure?” Jackson said.

“I have my reasons. But I'd need to talk to someone with more knowledge than you.”

“I know things!”

“I haven't read much on the subject of werewolves, but all the stories I have read have you guys going ape-shit around a full moon. Is that true?”

Jackson didn't answer right away, “I'm in control.”

“You don't need to tell me that you're better than everyone else, Jax.”

Both of their heart rates went up.

_What are they doing out there?_

Peter's voice was like a gong going off beside him.

“Are you spying on your betas? You stopped cutting up the pineapple.”

Derek resumed slicing, “They stopped preparing the bonfire.”

“Oh, really?” Peter hauled out the potatoes, corn, italian dressing, and marinading bags. “So what are they talking about?”

“Danny wants the bite.”

Peter began washing the potatoes in a nearby basin, “You should give it to him. Not only would it make us stronger, but the alpha pack will adhere to its own rules if it sees you playing along.”

Derek felt a flush of anger. His eyes turned red before he could think otherwise.

“When I want your opinion I'll ask for it.” Derek growled, “...It could kill him. Then edges would fray and things would get... difficult again. It's finally not so shitty around here.”

“Then make sure he knows that. Let him decide... Or make Jackson do it so it's all on him.”

“Alpha bites take better than beta bites. Jackson may be an ass but I won't let him kill his own friend if I can do better.”

Scott and Isaac showed up around the same time as Boyd and Erica. Derek set fire to the heap of old wood and forced everyone except Peter and Danny into a run around the property.

They circled the two mile perimeter twice in thirty minutes.

After that, it was control exercises for an hour until the coals were ready for cooking.

Lydia showed up well before sunset but just in time to get one of the first pieces of chicken.

It was shortly after the first wave of meat was cooked and consumed that Danny approached Derek with something different from a 'more food' look on his face.

“I want the Bite.”

Derek had to look up at Danny. Slightly upward, but that was only one aspect to the whole situation to send Derek's instincts into automatic denial.

The kid didn't have the slightest hint of submission in his posture or tone. He looked like he never had to face a really difficult situation in his life. If he had any sort of history, he certainly didn't show it. Danny was a good kid with a good, normal future ahead of him.

The Bite was a gift. Something to be given to those that would make the pack stronger.

Danny... Was a wildcard. Would he break on the threat of death? Derek didn't know.

He wasn't going to make any more mistakes.

“We'll talk about this inside. Peter, join us. Jackson, keep an eye on the grill.”

 

Inside the house Derek took a seat and motioned for Danny to do the same. Peter stood off to one side.

“Why do you want the bite?” Derek said.

“I want it because Jackson has it. I don't want to get left behind.”

“Jackson and Lydia filled you in about what they thought you should know. But they never told you that in five moons a rival pack of wolves is coming to psychologically and physically torment us with at least one of their end goals being total annihilation.”

Danny remained silent.

“Right now, you've only really been in this for a day. If you extricate yourself now, you might not be affected.”

Derek waited for a response.

After a minute, Danny spoke, “So you're saying I can either help keep my friends alive, or leave them to die?”

“Basically.”

“I'll choose my friends every time.”

Derek sighed, “Have you ever broken a bone? Lost someone close to you? Had any hardship in your life at all? I've heard that you're just this great big ball of sunshine that everyone loves. I'm not sure you could handle the responsibility of the Bite. Not when a war is brewing on the horizon. Are you prepared to kill someone that threatens your home?”

Danny scrunched his eyebrows and leaned backwards. “You sound like you need a friend.”

“What?” Derek snapped.

Peter aborted a laugh.

“I'm just saying... I'm sorry that you think the worst of people right off the bat. I tell you that I'm ready to lay down my life for my friends and you think it's a lie? Jackson told me about your lie detection abilities, as well as your ability to sniff out certain emotional responses. You should be able to tell than I'm completely serious.”

When Derek said nothing, Danny continued, “If you must know: I have broken bones before. My left wrist two years ago during a biking accident. A few ribs here and there thanks to lacrosse or karate. I've survived the deaths of my father due to an accident I caused when I was eleven, as well as the murders of my very close aunt and uncle from three towns away when I was twelve. I saw this great word the other day that I think perfectly describes me: Apocaloptimist. The world is going to end and we all have to die sometime, I might as well be happy with the people I love when it all comes burning down. So yeah, if you tell me that my friends are all going to die in five months and I have the opportunity to do something to change that? I will gladly do everything in my power to change the world for the better. And if my power isn't enough? I'll find a way to do more.”

Derek hoped he kept his emotions off of his face.

_Is this kid for real?_

Peter spoke, “The bite has a chance to kill you. There is no way to know the outcome until it happens.”

“And?” Danny said.

“You might die, but then again you might get immunity to disease, regeneration, better senses, physically stronger and much faster. You do get a weakness for wolfsbane as well as a bit hairy on a full moon. Your emotions go haywire until you can learn to control them. You get firmly sucked into the world of the supernatural. People might want to hunt you down just because of what you are. There's actually an organization of people out there with that express purpose. Hunters.”

“And I get the ability to protect my friends.”

Peter paused, “...Yes.”

Derek spoke, “You could try your hand at learning magic with Stiles and Lydia. You don't have to go this route if you just want to protect your friends.”

Danny smiled, “Are they learning things out of a book, or doing kung-fu magic?”

“Out of a book, I think. It varies.” Peter said.

“Then no. I choose the wolf.”

Derek stood up. “If you still say yes tomorrow, then I'll give you the Bite and welcome you to the pack.”

Danny stood up. “Sounds reasonable.”

Whereas Danny just glided out of the door like everything was fine, Peter hesitated at the foyer. At a glare from Derek, Peter moved on. Derek moved to sit on the remains of the staircase.

_Apocaloptimist? Is that even possible?_

_There is no denying he'd be a great addition._

Derek heard Stiles's jeep long before anyone else did. Derek got back out to the group by the time that low rumble was audible to most of everyone else.

Scott jumped up and rummaged through the cooler, “Finally! Took him long enough to get here. Throw a chicken on the grill, I know that's what he'd want.”

“Who's here?” Lydia and Danny said at the same time.

Jackson flipped over a slice of potato, “Stiles's jeep is coming up the road.”

Derek stood to the side and watched as Jackson pulled a chicken breast from the cooler and tossed it on the grill. Danny knocked shoulders with Jackson and grabbed a slice of brown-sugar grilled pineapple.

As Derek focused his abilities on Stiles's arrival, he heard the jeep shut off just in front of the house. After a minute, Stiles got out and began walking towards the fire.

_He smells like fear. And something else, too. Something... not bad._

Derek sighed.

_Must have seen an alpha._

“... creepy ass love letter. I had to tell my father everything.”

Derek, stunned for half a moment, moved well after Peter had already started moving towards Stiles.

Suppressing his rage, Derek calmly joined the growing crowd. Lydia, Jackson, and Danny moved closer but resolutely remained out of the conversation.

Peter was already trying to handle the situation, “Let me see the letter.”

Stiles took one step away, “Fuck no! If anyone is going to see it, it will never be you. Scott, maybe. Even that is too much.”

Scott moved between Peter and Stiles, “How could you have told your father? He's the Sheriff, Dude!”

“No one complained when your mother found out, but my dad being in the loop is suddenly a bad thing?”

“... How much does Melissa know?” Peter asked.

Scott turned around and yelled, “Stay the fuck away from my Mom!”

Stiles tried to smile, “At least our parents have each other to talk to about this. The first thing my dad does tonight might be to go see your mom at the hospital. Or maybe he'll do that after he tracks the gps in my phone.”

Scott looked mortified when he turned back towards Stiles.

“Come on, man. You look like someone pissed all over your comic book collection.” Stiles brushed it off, “I turned the gps off right after I left the house...”

“What happened?” Scott asked.

“An alpha tore a...” Stiles reigned back an emotional response as he tried to continue talking, “...a heart into my bedroom door. Left a bouquet of wolfsbane flowers like it was some sort of damn declaration of love. Minor damage to other parts of the house. I was not there when it happened, but I was supposed to be. A forensic team showed up and cleaned out the evidence. Dad freaked. He demanded answers and I just couldn't lie anymore.” Stiles tried to smile, “I didn't give any names, but he wants to come over Wednesday night.”

Derek finally spoke. Red light circled in his eyes, “You can lie. I have seen it. You could have made something up to keep him safe. You could have made something up to keep us all safe. Why did you tell him? You exposed us. You exposed him. Involving the police is not the same as involving anyone else. You might have killed us all.”

The scent of emotional pain rolled off of Stiles in a crashing wave.

Scott's eyes went bright yellow when he spoke to Derek, “Back off.”

Stiles's voice was deadly calm, “Don't get like this tonight, Derek. I really can't handle your bullshit right now.”

It was then, that Derek did something uncharacteristic. He stepped away.

Tension vanished and eyes lost their glow as Derek walked around the house and out of sight. He sat on the foundation stones and looked out into the night.

Maybe it was something that Danny said. Maybe it was this whole crazy situation. Maybe It wouldn't be so bad to have the sheriff know what was going on. Derek still felt guilty about the Kanima massacre at the station.

_If they would have known... They would have known what to look out for. Maybe they wouldn't be dead. If they would have known about what Kate did, maybe I would have gotten my revenge sooner. Maybe Gerard would be dead or locked up instead of missing._

_Or maybe I'm just being delusional. The cops might have joined in to set fire to my family._

_But Sheriff Stilinski. Jed..._

_His son is a part of this fight. There is nothing I can do to extricate Stiles from this. If Jed is really coming over on friendly terms... I need to try and make this work._

_...I miss you, Mom. Dad._

Derek walked back around to the bonfire. Everyone looked like they were balanced on broken glass.

“I'm sorry you couldn't keep your dad out of this, Stiles.” Derek said, “It will be nice not to have to lie to your dad anymore. I can see the appeal.”

Stiles said, “...I didn't want him to know. It just happened.”

Scott smiled and pulled Stiles into a side-hug. “It'll be okay, man.”

Jackson said, “Mine are never finding out.”

“Stop being an asshole, Jackson.” Lydia said. Turning towards Stiles she added, “That was rather brave of you to tell your dad. I don't think my parent's could handle this stuff.”

Stiles's small smile conflicted with his erratic heartbeat. Normally, a kind word from Lydia would have sent Stiles's heart racing. But today, his reaction was undeniably strange.

_He must be more shaken up than I thought._

Derek turned towards Stiles, “The alpha left you a letter? Can I see it?”

Stiles went silent for a minute.

Scott said, “Is it really that bad?”

“Oh my god.” Stiles stammered. “Um. How about you just take a look at one of the wolfsbane flowers he left behind?”

“Yes. That too. But the letter would tell us more about their intentions than just a flower.”

“I want their intentions very far away from me...” Stiles looked around at everyone else around the fire, “Okay. Okay. Fine. I'll show you. No one else!”

Stiles got up and walked around into the house. Derek followed.

When they were alone in the living room, and after a good five minutes of scowling at each other, Stiles pulled out a small piece of folded paper as well as a small blue flower. Stiles held onto the note, but shoved the flower towards Derek.

“So the flower is a bit crushed. You can tell what it is though, right?”

It was a heady sort of smell. It was small, and there ever since Stiles showed up for the night, but now that most of the emotional drama was out of the way the heady fragrance assaulted Derek like a brick to the face. Derek's eyes shifted bright red which caused Stiles to freeze in place. The fear in the young man's voice snapped Derek back into the present.

“How about you don't do that. Derek.”

“Do what?” Coming back to his senses, Derek realized what had just happened. “That is... Sorry, Stiles. That was out of my control. It's alphabane.”

Derek took a step back, but what he really wanted was to move closer.

“Alphabane, eh?” Stiles smiled. “Is that like a strong wolfsbane? Or is it more like catnip? Or maybe, more accurately, wolfnip?”

It was then that Derek noticed four golden eyes staring at them though the side windows.

Stiles noticed too and yelled at them, “Scott! Go away! I'll talk to you later.” One of the pairs of eyes scurried away. One pair remained. “Is that you, Isaac? You go away too!”

The second pair casually moved away from the other side of the window.

Derek's eyes remained lightly rimmed in red.

“You could call it wolfnip if you want.” Derek said, “It's not that far from the truth. Don't get it near any of us.”

Stiles smiled wide.

“Are you back from your minor high now, Derek?”

“I'm trying.” Derek sneezed, “And succeeding.”

Below the smell of fragrant alphabane, was another, smaller smell. Once Derek could place it, he was sure he knew what it was. The smell of sex-toy latex was very faint, but undeniably present. Derek decided he could smile at this.

_If he wants to make fun of me for my reaction, I can't wait to see his._

Derek took a moment to plan this conversation.

“Can I see the letter, now?” Derek finally said.

“Um. Do I have to?”

“I would like you to _want_ my help, Stiles.” Derek paused to let the words sink in, “There might be important knowledge in the letter.”

“I really don't think there is. But...” Stiles held the note out towards Derek.

Derek grabbed it between his thumb and forefinger, but Stiles didn't let go.

“Are you going to let me read it?”

“It's fucking embarrassing, man. Don't say anything to anyone. Please?”

Derek nodded and Stiles let go of the note.

Reading it didn't take long. When he finished, Derek started asking questions.

“A heart was carved into the door to your room. What else was there?”

“A clawed trail from the not-heart-but-just-normal-clawed front door to my room. And a bunch of these flowers inside.”

“Ah, but you didn't get this flower from that bunch, did you?” Derek let the hammer drop.

Stiles looked like he was about to panic.

Derek's instinct to pounce on Stiles's obvious turmoil tapered as he re-read the note.

_Maybe I shouldn't be mean about this. I'll just push him away, and he smells so good._

_...What the fuck._

Derek felt the note before smelling it. It was slightly slick.

_There's alphabane oil all over this. Fuck._

“I'm just going to lie to you about where I found them.”

Derek tried to be return to being menacing, but angry thoughts just didn't happen. Trying other techniques to calm down succeeded. Derek spoke when he regained full control.

“Fair enough. But I can smell where this second set of flowers was hidden.”

_Maybe I'm not in full control. What's wrong with that?_

Stiles looked mortified.

Derek continued, “This is an old-fashioned declaration of love. I don't know of anything like this ever being meant as anything other than a real and true declaration of intention. But this is an alpha pack. They are trying to scare us.”

“Explain how carving up my house is anything other than scary. Shouldn't these people know that destruction of property and terrifying a prospect's parents usually ends up poorly? No. Of course they don't. They're not very considerate. And now, this? On top of planing out our destructi-”

_Stiles's lips move too much. I'm trying to explain here. Why won't he shut up?_

Derek interrupted. “I'm trying to explain. They mark the entrance to your den so you know someone was there, then they mark a trail to your sleeping spot. The heart on the door is strange. That is not normal. The flowers are meant to be um... enjoyed. If you get my meaning.” Derek tries to not smile. It happens anyway. “Considering where these were placed, and the note... This _does_ explain why you were able to make that ash barrier so easily.”

Stiles did a double-take, “What? How does that even matter here?”

“Well, in a few Native-American cultures, as well as many more the world over, the most powerful shamans were those that abandoned traditional tribal roles.”

Stiles looked conflicted.

“That was supposed to be a compliment.” Derek said. “... I can see why this person would be interested in you.”

Stiles didn't reply.

“Too bad for him that your world is consumed by Lydia. And, you know... they're going to try to kill us all.”

Stiles didn't reply.

A minute passed as Stiles stared at the floor and Derek reread the note.

“There isn't anything useful here. Would you like me to burn it, or would you prefer to burn it yourself?”

“Burn that shit!” said Stiles with no hesitation.

“Okay. You burn the flower. I don't want to touch it. I already touched this note...” Derek started walking out of the house. He turned around and stared at Stiles. “Hmm.”

Stiles started to follow Derek out of the house, “Your face with a smile is ridiculous. You'd be attractive if you weren't so damn scary. You look like you're about to eat me.” Stiles pulled on his hoodie. “Oh my god. I suddenly hate this hoodie now.”

Derek paused, “Um. There is alphabane oil all over this note, and probably all in your pants and on your hands, too. You smell... um... really good. Not that you smelled bad before... but... At least wash your hands off before you come back out.”

Derek left Stiles alone in the house.

The note went into the fire with a puff of bright blue smoke.

Everyone except Lydia was having a strangely better night by the time Stiles came back out to the fire. Stiles looked towards Derek as he threw the flower into the fire. It went up in another small wisp of blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed Danny's attitude and (slight) backstory.
> 
> Derek Is trying to react positively now that he is able to do so without fear of losing everything.  
> I hope he can keep it together, for everyone's sake.


	7. Lydia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia does her thing.

 Lydia awoke Tuesday morning with Jackson's arm wrapped around her chest, but Stiles on her mind. She prodded Jackson awake. He moaned, snuggled up to her neck with a gentle kiss, and promptly went back to sleep.

It was six in the morning. They didn't need to wake for another hour. But Lydia's mind was already in high gear. She was not going back to sleep. After tossing off Jackson's arm she left him to collapse behind her as she got up for the day.

He growled into the bed. She ignored him.

“Something happened yesterday. Something more than just what you overheard. Stiles didn't react to me like he would have if he was still smitten.”

She looked down to see Jackson's blue eyes glowing against the mattress.

“Do we have to talk about Stilinski this early in the morning? I have a better idea for an early morning activity...” Jackson lifted his head. His eyes flashed blue.

“After we talk.”

Lydia began moving around the room to get ready for the day. Pulling out a nice red dress she quickly decided against it. She turned toward Jackson occasionally. He returned to a collapsed position on the bed.

Jackson eventually leaned up. “What is it?”

“I need you to do something for me. For everyone, really. I'm trying to get Stiles to drop his crush, but if I do it too hard it could end badly. I don't want that to happen. Today will either be the perfect time to do it, or everything will blow up in my face.”

“Why do you care? He's just Stilinski. Ruin his feelings! Send him crying to his father. If he could have _smelled_ himself at lunch yesterday he would have been ashamed. We really should give him a tutu and throw him to the alphas. Maybe they'll go away.”

She paused her morning routine to look directly at Jackson, “If he was ready, and he probably was, he really could take you in a fight. That was no exaggeration or boast at lunch yesterday. He is not just some useless waste of skin and bone.”

Jackson laughed, “You're joking! There's no way.” He scowled, “You're too in control. I can't even read your heartbeat.”

Lydia smiled, “This isn't control. Not right now. It's the truth. We want him in top emotional and physical shape by the time the games start. If I can end his crush in a good way, I'm going to try to do so. Thanks to your spying and my intellect, maybe I'll see if Danny knows some nice guys that I can fix Stiles up with... But... He is the kind of guy that would rather hurt himself then bring another into this sort of life. Matchmaking is probably years away, at this point in time.” Lydia moved through her closet. She pulled out a white dress. “... Hmm... This'll do.”

Jackson groaned, “I still can't believe that. No wonder he asked Danny if gay guys found him attractive.” Jackson sat straight up, “Back to him beating me in a fight... What could he possibly do?”

“I'm not going to speak about that without a barrier. They could be listening right now.”

Jackson leapt from the bed and swept Lydia into his arms. She giggled as he kissed along her neck. The dress fell to the floor as she turned to wrap her arms around his body.

“Then lets give them something to listen to.” Jackson said.

“I'm really glad to have you back.” Lydia nibbled on his bottom lip, “And you have the most beautiful eyes.”

A flash of blue accompanied Jackson's happy growl, “You always know just what to say.”

 

Arriving at school and parting till their next class, Lydia said one last thing to Jackson:

“Try to be nice when you see him, okay? You remember what we went over?”

“Of course I remember. See you at lunch.”

They parted with a kiss.

 

Lydia shared her notes in AP English with Erica. Relationship advice was handed out to Boyd in the hallway. Isaac seemed to have abandoned school, but Scott said he might come back, maybe even this week. Stiles faintly smiled when Lydia spoke to him, but his posture and tone was all about getting away as soon as possible.

_Jackson... I hope that was an untainted reaction, and that you haven't talked to him yet. I said to do it before lunch..._

Allison avoided everyone. Now that everyone who knew about the alpha pack was beginning to act together, Allison's reactions had gotten particularly awful. She turned around in the hallways. She grabbed her books from her nearby locker as quickly and silently as she could. She nearly ran Lydia over when Lydia cornered her in the bathroom.

When Chemistry forced Allison to be in the same classroom with several members of the pack, Lydia waited to see Allison's car leaving the parking lot. Lydia was not surprised when that familiar black car burned rubber trying to get away.

_Maybe I can fix that._

She looked towards Scott. Scott's head was flush against his desk. Stiles's hand made short circular motions against his friend's back.

_...I can at least try._

Lydia returned her attention to the lecture.

 

When lunch came around, Boyd, Erica, Scott, Stiles, Jackson, and Danny were already at the table. Lydia joined them.

Jackson smiled as Lydia sat down beside him. Lydia didn't make it obvious, but she kept her eyes on Stiles as she searched for a reaction. There was nothing very different in his reaction to Lydia's arrival, as compared to everyone else's reactions, anyway. A non-reaction told Lydia exactly what she wanted to know.

_Jackson did it perfectly! That's my man!_

Jackson laid his hand on her leg. She left it there as she smiled at him.

“Was I like that with Allison?” Scott asked.

Stiles answered, “ You were much worse. This is like, rated G compared to you guys.”

Danny smirked.

Erica spoke to Lydia, “Thanks for the notes in English, Lydia. I'm sure I can at least pass this year now.”

“Anything for Pack.”

Boyd perked up at the mention of pack, “Not to be a jerk, but are... not bitten... able to be a part of this? This subject has never come up before.”

Stiles answered, “Ms. Morrell, Monica, still can't believe how much she could have done for us but didn't, but whatever... She said that we can't contribute as directly as you all can with each other, but we can certainly be a real part of the group.”

Lydia added, “It takes more effort. Just being there is main part of it, though. Our brand of help requires more understanding and conscious direction to affect change. Your's is already working all the time.”

Boyd paused before he spoke, “Oh. Good! That's great. The more the merrier.”

Danny said, “I'm joining you guys tonight, too. Just hope I don't die to the change.”

Danny hit a landmine without knowing he was in a minefield. Erica was not as obviously pissed as Boyd, but they both went from happy to sad in an instant.

Boyd growled out, “He never told us that was a possibility.”

Erica said, “He hasn't even said he was sorry, yet.”

Lydia tried to redirect the situation, “That was one of the first conversations Stiles and I had with Alan and Monica. If you're open to the possibilities of it being an improvement, or completely unaware of what is happening and you just want to get better, you should have an easy transformation. If you vaguely know what is happening, and that requires at least an acceptance of the supernatural, your decision can't just be a casual 'yeah, this might be a nice change'. Your survival and transformation is related completely to your real feelings. What you tell yourself every day doesn't matter. There is more to it than that, but Alan wasn't willing to talk about it for very long.”

“What does that mean for you and Jackson?” asked Scott.

“I have a few theories about Jackson. But I don't have all that information. So I really don't know anything. As for myself? If you would have talked about werewolves like they were real a year ago, you would have become a social pariah at best. It really did just come down to 'what I decided didn't exist couldn't hurt me.' If that makes sense. If I got bit again, I don't really know what would happen.”

Stiles said, “Monica and Alan never even told us that much. Lydia hits the ground running with every single piece of information she can extract.”

Lydia said, “Those are just my current theories. They might be wrong.”

Stiles said, “You should see the things she can do with a-”

Lydia glared at Stiles, “They might be spying.”

Stiles stopped and looked at Danny, “... But there really is no way to know the outcome, Danny. I hope you're making the right choice.”

Scott spoke up, “They might be spying? The alphas?”

Stiles said, “We're pretty sure half of their fun is seeing and hearing the drama that unfolds from giving us five months to prepare.”

Lydia spoke to Erica and Boyd, “If you knew all of this was going to happen, would you have still taken the Bite?”

Erica paused, “Yes. Living without control of your own body isn't really living. I'd gladly trade ten bad years for half of a violent but healthy one. I couldn't even get a licence before. Not that I have a car, but whatever. It hasn't been perfect. I had a seizure when I was paralyzed. But I haven't had any others since I took the Bite.”

Boyd said. “I like belonging to a Pack. I always wanted a real family. Now that Derek isn't being an asshole, things are looking up.”

The rest of the conversation was inconsequential. Lydia paid attention to everyone's reactions to what was being said, instead of the words themselves. Stile's body language and motions suggested he had finally fallen out of love with Lydia, even if he still came across as pliant in conversation. Lydia hoped his feelings had turned into respect. That was the plan, after all.

Later, when things had settled down, or definitely if the opportunity presented itself, she would hook him up with someone that would been good to him.

_I don't like using people as much as I used you, Stiles. But you left me no choice. No one left me any choice. I'll apologize, one day. But not today._

_At least Jackson's talk seems to have really sunk in._

Playing matchmaker would probably be years away. After these first deadly hurdles were far in the distance. 

At some point toward the end of the lunch period, something about Danny bugged Jackson enough for Jackson to blurt out: “Why are you smiling so damn much? What could have possibly happened in the last five minutes?”

Danny looked from Jackson to Stiles and said, “Miguel?”

Stiles nearly choked on a chicken nugget.

As Danny started laughing, Jackson, Scott, and Erica, all asked, “Who's Miguel?”

Danny said, “Stiles wanted my help with something technical. He conned me into helping by having a half-naked Derek in his room. Stiles called him 'Miguel'. Was that when Derek was a wanted man?”

Scott said, “Why was Derek half-naked in your room?”

Stiles ignored Scott and said, “There was no reason to ever mention that. It was something that was best left alone and gradually forgotten as it casually vanished from everyone's memories.”

“But I have to know,” Danny asked, “Did you two plan that? Or was that all you?”

“... I told you I'm a terrible person. I wasn't exactly lying... He knocked my head into a steering wheel, later. Can we never speak of this again?”

Erica and Boyd started laughing.

Erica said, “That's not going to happen. Now I know what to call him when I want to rile him up.”

Lydia said, “Might want to save it for after Danny gets the Bite.” Lydia smiled, “Miguel might not like that this story came out.”

Stiles said, “No one likes that this story came out.”

_Everyone but you likes that this story came out... Derek might not like it either, but whatever. He has too much power right now. The playing field needs to be evened._

_For all your bluster, you don't looked that miffed about this, Stiles… Are you blushing, Stiles Stilinski? I didn't expect this so soon. This gives me someone to redirect your attention towards._

_But really? Derek Hale? I'm not sure that is such a good thing._

_I need to find out how old Derek is. Maybe 24? Might be too old. For now, anyway. Though... Derek is probably better than some random stalker alpha._

_We can't have Sheriff Stilinski flipping out on us if he thinks his son is being statutorily raped by a werewolf, even if it is the one that we know..._

_It won't end well._

_Probably won't end well._

_But... Stranger things have been known to happen._

Lydia put her hand over Jackson's hand and squeezed. A bell sounded the end of the lunch period.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does Lydia think it's a bad thing to manipulate people to make them better?  
> Of course she doesn't. At least, when it's only in small doses.


	8. Danny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens to Danny.  
> Danny chooses to do some stuff.

Bells rang to signal the end of the school day. Danny paused, one of his books halfway in his bag and everyone else hurrying to leave, as he looked up at the clock on the wall.

_Everyone has to die sometime, right?_

He quickly stashed everything into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Besides the teacher, Danny was the last one to leave the classroom. First stop, the locker room to pick up his gym bag. Then, when an overpowering urge to vomit suddenly struck, he spent five minutes staring at his reflection in the mirror of the boy's bathroom. After he washed his face for the third time, his phone went off.

The text from Jackson was short: 'u ok?'

'yes. 1 min.'

The halls were empty by the time Danny got out of the bathroom.

Making a b-line towards Jackson's porsche brought Danny through the campus's central courtyard. Almost everyone was already gone. When a gaggle of giggling girls vanished around a corner, there was only one other person in the courtyard.

A particularly handsome man leaned against one wall of the normal path to Jackson's car. Bright short blond hair, heavily tanned skin, tan cargo shorts, and wearing a plain white t-shirt that bulged in all the right ways, he looked at Danny as Danny crossed the courtyard. The first strange thing Danny noticed was that the man wore no shoes.

Danny slowed down and considered either taking an alternate route, or taking in an eyeful or more from the obviously interested man. When Danny got closer, the man, who had to be in his early twenties, was still staring.

_Uhh... I'm not sure whether to be turned on, or wary of a guy that seems to seek out people likely to be underage. I've lied about my age at the clubs before, so in any other setting I might even go for this, but here? Now? And why the bare feet?_

_Maybe I should have walked the other way._

When Danny hesitated and made to turn around, the man called out with a voice as happy-go-lucky as a surfer.

“I just want to talk. You might not want to run. If you ran, I'd just have to chase you.”

Danny took a closer look at the muscular man. His smile was plain, his hands were un-clawed, but his eyes shifted red when Danny paused on the man's face.

Danny's voice took an angry edge, “Here to scare me?”

“If I wanted to scare you. You'd be scared.” The man said, “By the way,” He arced his head, and spoke towards different directions, “Don't get in my line of sight, you pups. I can hear you coming. I advise you to stop your advance before this turns unfriendly.” Pausing for a few seconds, and after returning to smile at Danny, he said, “You have a good set of friends here. But... They don't deserve you. If you want to be one of our betas, we'd accept you with open arms. You'll end up with a life much larger than anything you could carve out here. My name is Mark, by the way.”

Danny wasn't expecting that, “Why are you doing this?”

“The part about inviting you to our pack? We recruit those with potential and those that have a stabilizing influence. You're both, and you're not bad to look at.” Mark said.

“No. I mean why are you doing this, _at all_. Why are you here?”

Mark kept smiling, “Multiple reasons. If you want to know all of them, join us.”

“Will you leave my friends alone if I go with you? Will I be able to see my mother at any time I want to? Will I have to kill my friends? I don't know much about you, but from what I've heard, the answers are probably no, no, and yes.”

“And you're smart, to boot!”

“Then, no. I'll take my five months and try my hand at keeping the ones I love safe.”

“More like four and a half, at this point.” Mark sighed, “Well shoot. I tried.”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Mark looked towards the ground and kicked at the cement. With a loud crack, the cement fractured and sent shards flying.

“Whoops!” Mark looked at Danny. “Sorry about that. Little bit of property destruction. Sort of come with the territory. Sorry about your decision, too. It's so rare for a person like you to come along that I had to try before Derek bit you. When you're the last one left alive, I hope you can rethink your priorities.”

Mark walked past a cautious Danny, “And you've got such a cute ass, too.”

The school security officer came around the corner just in time to see Mark checking out Danny's ass. He took one look at Danny before running towards Mark.

“Hey! You! What did you do! I heard something over here!”

Mark laughed as he bolted. He twisted in the air and taunted the officer.

“M80s, Piggy! I got a ton more, too! Oink oink!”

With a jump at a wall, Mark parkour'ed his way to the roof and mooned the cop.

When it became evident that Mark wasn't going to hurt anyone, but before the cop realized he could ask Danny questions, Danny quickly continued to Jackson's porsche. Jackson, Erica, Boyd, and Stiles waited for him past the hallway to the parking lot.

“Sorry that took so long.” Danny said.

Erica spoke away from Danny, “He's good. We going.”

After a second, Erica said, “Scott and Lydia are going now, too. Let's leave.”

In less than a minute they were each inside their respective vehicle and leaving the school behind. When the school was out of sight, Jackson started to talk to Danny, “I'm glad you chose to stay.”

Danny said, “Oh, come on! Why would I ever choose to go with a bunch of killers? That wasn't a real offer. He was just trying to play me.”

Jackson paused, “If it was a real offer, would you have gone?”

“Hell no.”

“He wasn't as hot as me, was he?”

Danny smiled. “He was much better than you.”

Jackson rolled his eyes, “Not possible.”

“You're kinda short.”

“Now I'm mortally offended.”

They both laughed.

Jackson said, “How can you be so sure it wasn't a real offer? I paid attention to his speech and reactions the whole time. It sounded real.”

Danny sighed, “I know you know this already, but I'm going to repeat it right now. You've had Lydia in your life for a very long time, Jax. Ergo, you should know what manipulation looks like even in spite of your new abilities.”

Jackson might have been hurt, but the moment passed without remark.

Jackson eventually said, “Stop by the store first? More pineapple, more chicken, more steaks.”

“Yeah.” Danny said. “You know, that even if it was a real offer, I'd never leave you guys like that.”

“Yeah. I know.” Jackson smiled and changed the subject again, “After today I'm setting out a collection jar. I'm not going be taken advantage of for my generosity at the grocery story.”

 

Derek was not surprised by Danny's story, or by Jackson and Lydia's interpretation of the event.

Shortly after the discussion ended, Danny stood in the remains of the Hale House with Derek, Jackson, Boyd, Erica, Isaac, and Scott. Peter remained outside to tend the fire. Lydia and Stiles had already departed for Alan's house. Bandages and towels waited on a nearby table.

“The first full moon of spring is in ten days.” Derek said. “It's called the egg moon, or the pink moon. It's considered a lucky time to make new wolves.” Derek took a step towards Danny, “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Danny said.

“Good. I'm going for your side.”

As Derek's eyes shone red and his teeth grew three sizes, Danny lifted his shirt.

“Motherfu-” Danny shut his mouth and thought of a happy place.

 

Lost in a fevered dream, Danny opened his eyes to the tropical breezes of a palm tree lined black sand beach. An out of sight volcano rumbled and sent red hot lava flowing into the ocean. Bright red rock cooled, cracking like thunder. As Danny took a step away from the lava the dark sand underfoot brought up thick black ink.

The ink pooled around his feet and flowed towards the ocean. The waves calmed to glass, almost as though the water waited for the ink to make the first move.

As the darkness touched the water everything fractured into color like a gasoline-slick.

Something huge loomed under the surface. Danny tried to run further up the beach, but he was already standing on prismatic water, miles out to sea. The terrible maw of the depths opened wide, shattering the surface and consuming Danny whole.

 

Waking up happened slowly.

Danny felt the constriction of a bandage wrapped around his body, and the pressure of pad over where something had bitten him. Why was he still in his clothes? Didn't he usually take them off before bed? At least his shoes were off. His shirt might have been off, too. This didn't feel like his bed at home. His bed at home didn't smell like strange people. The air felt hot, like someone forgot to turn on the AC.

_I'm not at home._

He was at the Hale House and had just accepted the Bite from Derek.

He heard voices in the darkness and tried to place them.

_Jackson? We haven't had a sleepover since we were twelve._

Danny opened his eyes.

Jackson looked like he might have cried recently.

Lydia was wrapped in a blanket and asleep in a nearby chair. It was definitely not the afternoon anymore. The night was in full control outside the windows of the Hale House. Stars twinkled brightly against the midnight blue sky. A single uncovered light bulb, dangling from a cord in the middle of the room, suddenly went on. The sudden brightness was blinding. Danny blinked his eyes.

Danny interrupted whatever Jackson was saying, “How long was I out?”

Jackson said, “Answer me, dammit! How are you feeling? Lydia!”

Lydia woke with a start, “Wha...? Danny!”

Danny restated, “What time is it?”

Derek leaned against the wood near the light switch. Peter stood at the entrance to the room. Lydia threw off her blanket and got bottle of water for Danny.

Jackson looked at his watch, “Almost one in the morning. You collapsed right after Derek bit you.”

“Is that all I did? I had the strangest dream.”

Derek spoke, “You tried to run, but that didn't last long. Let's check that bandage.”

Jackson helped Danny sit up. Lydia handed over the water bottle. Danny took huge gulps of blissful water as Derek leaned down and pulled at the bandage.

Danny winced. Derek smiled. With a flick of his claws, the bandage came off. The bite was already looking like it was a month old. No inflammation, and only a small amount of blood when the bandage was removed. The mark itself was nearly gone. All that remained were reddish indentations and two larger holes from Derek's canines.

“You're going to be fine.” Derek said. “You should consider skipping the next few days of school so I can teach you the ropes.”

Derek stood back and held out his hand. Danny reached for it.

“I can miss a few days. Where is everyone?”

Lydia said, “They went home as soon as you were looking to make a full recovery.”

Danny flexed his arms. The brief moments of weakness passed as Danny clenched and unclenched his fists.

Jackson smiled. “We saved some food for you.”

At the mention of food, Danny's nose flared. In seconds, he was coughing. Danny waved Jackson away when Jackson tried to get closer.

“It smells. So much.” Danny coughed, “This place is less clean than I thought it was.”

Lydia, Jackson, and Peter laughed.

Derek scowled, “We're going to demolish down to the foundation tomorrow. The three of us will make it go fast.”

Danny sniffed himself, “I smell awful.”

Jackson said, “No you don't. You smell like you.”

“Whatever, Dude.” Danny turned towards Derek, “Does it matter if I go and come back? I'm not a danger to anyone, am I?”

Derek said, “The moon is still rather new. You shouldn't feel the drive to hunt until we get closer to the full moon. But you should stick close to someone that can deal with you until we know how you'll react. We'll work on an anchor when you come back tomorrow.”

“Great,” Lydia said. “If you two want to have a sleepover, take me home first.”

Danny smiled. “We haven't done that since we were twelve.”

“Time to restart the old tradition.” Jackson smiled.

Lydia was already in the tiny backseat of the porsche by the time Danny and Jackson left the remains of the Hale House. Danny scarfed down hunks of cold chicken from a bag of leftovers as Jackson drove.

Not a single light was on when Lydia was dropped off at her house. Danny's house was much the same, but the lights went on when Danny was somewhere inside his room. Ten minutes later, Danny was waving to his mother on the porch as he got back into Jackson's car.

“She's a light sleeper. She said this was fine, but if I do this again without warning, I'm grounded.” Danny said. “Ever since that time at the club things have been different. I think she's only doing this because you're alive again.”

Jackson handed over the bag of leftovers as they pulled out of the driveway. Danny took the bag.

“I still haven't forgiven you for doing that to me, you know.”

“Tonight, we can do whatever you want so that I can earn my forgiveness.”

“Anything?” Danny asked as he gobbled down a piece of chicken.

Jackson smiled, “If you're not too tired, I have a huge stick of beef in my pants, too. If you'd like to start on that.”

Danny laughed, “Is this what the rest of the night is going to turn into? Because I have lots of time if I'm not going to school tomorrow.”

“I've just decided to skip, too.” Jackson smiled. “Let's stay up late and watch some manly movies. Something with blood and guts? I have a few Resident Evil movies. Or, maybe, Alien 3?”

“Lets go with more explosions and shirtless men, and less strong leading ladies.”

“I know you like Sigourney Weaver. What's wrong with Alien 3?”

“Nothing! I'd prefer her in Avatar, though. At least then I get to look at pleasing alien muscles.”

“Too much story and not enough blood to be considered manly. Also, you're a freak.”

“Blood, sex, and food. A usual combination for werewolves?” Danny said.

“Only if I get to be the top.” Jackson said.

“Fuck you! I'm the top.”

“Oh, come on... Lydia wants pictures of me on top. We can even do it without condoms. Immunity to disease, and all that.”

“Oh my god! I never even considered! That's fucking awesome!”

Jackson scrunched his face into a serious side-eye, “Really? You never considered that? I think I smell a lie.”

Danny smiled, “I'll reconsider pictures if you're the bottom.”

Danny laughed as Jackson smiled.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always felt like canon Danny and Jackson's reasons for being friends were non-existent.  
> So I made up this sort of stuff to show how their friendship works when no one has to put on a show for popularity's sake.
> 
> I really like my take on Jackson and Danny's friendship, I hope you have too.


	9. Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles does some shamanistic pot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor triggers for drug use and non-con.  
> I don't think it's that bad. Awkward = yes. Bad? ... You decide.

After the massacre at the police station, the beating from Gerard, the rest of that surreal night, and all the fuckery from the emergence of the alpha pack, along with so many smaller events, Stiles was trying his best to keep it together. Mostly, he was succeeding. But that didn't change the fact that he was still not feeling like himself. Either he was in an adderall-assisted depression, or he was in the middle of some serious post-traumatic-stress-disorder.

It was probably both.

The internet couldn't help him. Double-blind studies surrounding the effects of traumatic werewolf encounters simply did not exist. He had spent most of his free time searching for them, too.

Every study that dealt with the supernatural came to the same conclusion: The patients in the study were obviously crazy. Now that that is settled, lets classify their crazy into small little easy-to-understand boxes!

Trying to cope with his new-found romantic feelings for werewolves only slightly distracted from the approaching horror.

_Derek would have a nicer look if he wasn't so frowny._

_Did I really just think that? Oh my god._

Stiles didn't have Lydia's steel-strong ability to withstand all these new kinds of pain, or her ability get what she wanted. Or even her ability to know what she wanted in the first place. He didn't have Scott's attitude that everything would be okay. He didn't have Derek's ability to heal the physical wounds.

Watching Danny possibly die from the Bite was where he drew the line. It was a faint line, and Stiles knew it would be trampled over soon enough, but it existed for now.

As soon as Danny and Derek looked to get on with it, Stiles dragged Lydia away. Jackson made some sort of protest, but Lydia shushed him before she promptly got into Stiles's jeep. Alan Deaton might not be expecting them, but ticking off a wizard was better than facing the death of a friend.

There was plenty of time for that horror in the coming months.

_I'm not going to do nothing. I'm not going to circle the house in ash and sit there as the wolves prowl outside. I'm not going to let my friends die. I'm going to do something about it, dammit!_

“So where are we going?” Lydia asked.

“To Alan's for an early lesson.”

“You know he won't like that.”

“A lot of shit is happening that no one likes. I don't mind pressuring the wizard into divulging secrets right now. I... I can't be here, tonight. Not right now.”

Lydia was silent for the rest of the ride. When they pressed the doorbell on Alan's simple house on the outskirts of town, Alan opened the door and scowled.

“Stiles. Lydia. You need to take this slower. Is there something wrong with our meeting on Friday?” Alan said.

Stiles said, “Is there really no way to make sure a Bite takes?”

“No. There is not. Is that all?”

Stiles said, “Is Monica here too? I see her car out there. Can we have Friday's lesson today? I'm feeling particularly magical.”

Alan sighed. Lydia remained silent.

Monica appeared from inside the house, “We're just now finishing up dinner.” She turned towards Alan, “I can take Lydia to my house, if you want to do it tonight, Alan.”

“Fine. Come on in. You can both help clean up before we start. Take off your shoes.”

Ten minutes later, Stiles pressed the start button on the dishwasher as Lydia and Monica were walking back out the door. With a final farewell wave, the women were gone and the guys were alone.

Alan had already placed a small runed box in the center of the dining room table. A familiar set of powders sat near Alan.

Alan smirked, “You're feeling magical, eh?”

“When you say it like that it sounds all dumb. So what is it tonight? Summoning spirits? Banishing spirits? More barriers? More charms? Searching for my spirit animal? Learning how to make my hair grow really fast?”

Alan ran a hand over his bald head, “What makes you think I know how to grow hair?”

“I thought you were going for the whole incognito-wizard look.”

“The term 'wizard' is not very appropriate. I thought I'd already said that.”

Alan sat down and pressed the top center of the box. The wood split into four separate triangles and folded outward before the sides came undone and laid flat on the kitchen table. Whereas the outside was heavily runed wood, the inside was bright white. As Stiles sat down and looked at the now-glowing layer of white, it gradually faded into wispy smoke to dissipate into the air. More runes appeared from beneath the vanishing glow.

Stiles's mouth was agape as he asked, “What was that?”

“Unaligned energy. Not much of it, either.”

“What just happened?”

“Nothing besides a little light show. It's very useless in that form. The box is a training tool to help young... we'll go with wizards for now... visualize the energy. It's also a great way to test if a...,” Alan cringed, “a wizard is progressing.”

“How does it work?” Stiles reached out and touched the unfolded box. When Alan didn't stop him, Stiles picked it up and flipped it over a few times. “What do all the runes mean? There aren't even any latches.”

“All you do is close the box and meditate on it. Believe that you can fill it, and it will fill.”

“Why didn't you help more with the Kanima, or with Peter, or even with Gerard? Why didn't you kill him with cyanide pills instead of using mountain ash?”

Alan leaned back in his chair. Stiles closed the box and fingered the runes as he tried to wait for an answer. After a minute of silence, Stiles couldn't handle it anymore.

“You could have, right? You have wolfsbane here, even if you don't have cyanide. Some of it is just as deadly to humans as it is to werewolves. You must have some of that kind around.”

“Would you have killed him if you had the chance?”

“Yes.”

“For all of his bluster and hate, did he ever kill anyone that hadn't killed someone else first?”

“He's and old, psychotic, evil man. Surely he crossed the line at some point in time. He raised Kate, after all. He tried to kill Isaac! He threatened Scott's mom. Scott said he bisected an omega in the woods...”

“That omega attacked and killed someone inside an ambulance. But Gerard didn't kill Isaac, did he? He didn't kill Erica or Boyd, either. And from my understanding, he had ample opportunity. He might have deserved death for some of his past dealings, but that is not the point I'm trying to make. Do you feel that you have the right to kill others, if those people are acting unkind towards you or the people you value? Is revenge acceptable? Do you feel that death is the best response to death?”

“The only reason Issac is alive is because Scott was there to stop Gerard. It would have happened if not for Scott. And these alphas coming in, they want to kill us all. I'd rather kill them before they give us a revenge-filled reason to fight back.” Stiles drifted off, “You want me to say no. I want me to say no. I don't _want_ to be like them...” Stiles sat with the closed box in his hands. “Danny might die from the Bite, tonight. He's already taking his life in his hands to try and protect everyone. My father is meeting the pack, tomorrow. He knows everything and I don't know how he'll react.”

“Are you trying to shift the subject?” Alan said, “I want an honest answer. Do you feel that death is the best response to death?”

Stiles didn't answer. Alan stood up and went to the fridge.

“I'll give you an easier question: What would you like to drink?”

“Margaritas. Long island iced tea. Gin and tonic. Beer.”

“How about a coke?”

“I can die in a war, but I can't have a beer?”

“... I have Magic Hat #9.”

“Would a joke about a wizard drinking beer out of a magic hat be appropriate? Because I think it would be, but I can't think of one right now.” Alan set the opened bottle and popped top on the table in front of Stiles before drinking from his own bottle. After Stiles took a gulp, he picked up the top and read it aloud, “'You need to drink another beer after this one.' Would you say that is an auspicious cap? I would say that is an auspicious cap.”

Alan smiled, “We're eventually going to smoke pot together. Might as well see how you react to beer first.”

Stiles snorted. Luckily, he hadn't had beer in his mouth right then.

“I don't believe this. I cannot be this lucky. That is really a thing that wizards do? I read about it, but I never figured...”

Alan scowled for half a second before sighing, “You would benefit from a guided spiritual journey. Pot isn't very useful beyond helping you answer questions about yourself. But it can, with proper guidance, do that one thing very well.”

“I am up for that. When can we do it?”

“Tonight, if you want.”

“Yeah! Let's do it!”

 

Ten minutes later Stiles was sitting in a comfy leather loveseat. Alan sat in an identical seat while a small table sat between them. A small glass pipe and lighter waited in the center.

“I'm guessing you already know how to use this.” Alan said, picking up the pipe.

“...yeah.” Stiles said, trying not to make his experience not too obvious.

Alan took the first drag, set down the pipe, and blew out a hazy gray line of smoke. Instead of vanishing into the air, the line twisted and spun as it looped into a ring hovering around the two men.

“That is so cool.” Stiles said.

Alan picked up the pipe and handed it to Stiles.

“This feels so weird doing this with an... adult.”

“Stop thinking of it as getting high. This used to be a very legitimate way for young shamans to discover what they were looking for. It wasn't until the Regan era and the backlash from widespread non-useful use that we got our modern-day war on drugs. More than just werewolves have been demonized by society.” Alan closed his eyes and sat back, “The experience is different for everyone. Whatever happens, I'll be here to pull you back.”

“For science!” Stiles rethought for a moment before saying, “I mean, for magic!” Stiles took a long drag. Alan looked at Stiles when Stiles began to exhale, “What? Is something wrong with calling it magic? It is magic, right?”

Alan said nothing. The smoke ring on the ground was suddenly much more interesting than watching Alan's strange face.

 

The smoke began to dance. Small and shapeless at first, it gradually solidified here and there. With a howl, a single smoke wolf opened its red eyes. As it moved, five yellow-eyed wolves emerged from the smoke to follow. A blue-eyed wolf tried to join the group, but remained an outsider. A single dark-eyed wolf held back, but kept the pack in its sights.

The wolves transformed to walk upright and mingled with countless human shapes. A white eyed boy and a dark-eyed girl joined the human wolfs. From outside Stiles's vision came ten red-eyed monsters. They nipped and snapped at the people, separating the pack from the rest and forcing them together.

The white-eyed boy stepped towards one of the huge wolves. Cautious at first, the monster slowly began to play with the white-eyed boy. As they danced, they moved away from the pack.

The rest of the red-eyed pack looked hungrily at the human wolves. At a howl from the one that danced away, the red-eyed pack quickly vanished, forever leaving the human world behind.

The dark-eyed wolf sliced the head off of red eyes before turning on three of the yellow eyes. At the death of the dark-eyed girl, blue eyes turned into an emerald snake and fought with the dark-eyed wolf. When the fight was over, the snake laid at Dark-eye's feet as if in protection.

The rest of the human wolves ran away.

 

Stiles blinked.

 

The monstrous pack soon grew tired of their white-eyed boy. At a playful bite, the white-eyed boy collapsed and vanished into wispy strands of black.

 

Stiles looked away as tears rolled down his face. The smoke ring was gone. Stiles felt more sober than he had all night.

Alan handed him a tissue, “Do you have an answer, now?”

Stiles took a moment to wipe away the tears, “Was what I saw real?”

“Yes. And no. Whatever you saw was a reflection of yourself.”

“I think I saw the future.”

Alan paused before he spoke, “No one can predict the future with one hundred percent accuracy. The more data points you know, the easier it is to extrapolate. And even then, an untrained shaman only sees through their own eyes until they're trained how to see without limits. Do you think you have all the data points there are to have, or could it be that you only saw your deepest fear?”

Stiles inhaled deeply and sighed. The relief was obvious on his face, “Oh god the second one. I hope.”

“Now that you've seen the worst, what sort of answer do you have? Is it okay to send death against death?”

Stiles paused and thought.

“In a perfect world, there would always exist a third option. Maybe we could talk it out. Maybe we could fix whatever is broken. But sometimes, nothing is broken. Sometimes, the talking has reached an end. Sometimes, if you don't kill someone when you have the chance, they'll kill you. I'm the kid here, aren't you supposed to be the one teaching me? Why don't you tell me: Is it okay to send death against death?”

Alan said, “It's time for you to go home, Stiles. I'm not giving you an easy answer.”

“Fine.” Stiles bolted from the chair.

Alan called out as Stiles passed the dining room table, “Take the box. Practice with it. See what you get.”

Stiles snatched up the box, put his shoes back on, and left.

 

Stiles stopped by the Hale House just before midnight.

Danny, with Jackson as a guard against the cold, looked to be sleeping soundly on a dirty mattress. Lydia was wrapped in a blanket and asleep on a nearby chair. Peter was absent, but Derek was still awake and prowling around like a proper creeper.

_Maybe creeping is a werewolf trait, and Derek just isn't as good at it as Peter is. I don't even see Peter. Super-creeper is probably watching me from some hidden alcove._

_Ha! Super-creeper. I wonder what Derek will think of that._

… _Maybe he doesn't know that I sometimes refer to him as Creeper. Maybe I should keep it that way._

Stiles waved Derek down. They stood outside of the house to talk.

Stiles started small, “Looks like the demolition is going smooth. Only the living room left, eh? Where are you going to stay when it's being rebuilt?”

“We've got the other den. We'll figure it out.”

Derek looked askance and folded his arms across his chest. He waited.

_Of course he's waiting. He can probably smell the fear on me._

Stiles asked quickly to get it over with, “Is-Danny-going-to-be-okay?”

“It took really easily. He's going to be fine.”

Stiles exhaled. His whole body felt lighter. It was like butterflies in spring. Before he knew what was happening, he was hugging Derek. The contact lasted less than a second. Derek might have flinched, but he didn't move.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Thank you gods of randomness. I cannot tell you how much this stressed me out. I probably don't need to explain my feelings right now. You can probably smell my relief, can't you? What does relief smell like, by the way?”

“You smell like pot, Stiles.” Derek said. “It's all in your breath and over your clothes.”

“And you smell like you need a shower. The nearby streams don't clean like a good hot shower does. Since you know my secret, you'd know I wouldn't mind seeing you in my shower at home. Just for the show, obviously.”

Derek scowled. “Are you driving around high? Is this how you cope? Your father would not like it if you showed up dead in a ditch somewhere. It would reflect badly on us all, even if we had nothing to do with it.”

“Awww! You do have a heart. I'm glad to see you care about my wellbeing.”

“What are you doing here at this hour, Stiles?”

“Did you know, that using a person's name in casual conversation is one hallmark of attraction? You've said my name twice in the past minute.”

Derek further scowled, “I'm walking away now.”

“Wait. I need to talk to you.”

“Aren't we doing that now?”

“It needs to be private. Like. Really private. Just you and me. It's important.”

“I'm waiting for Danny to wake up. Afterward?”

“Sure. I'm going home now. Give me a call before you come over. That will give me time to set up the circle.”

Derek scrunched his eyebrows, “Really?”

Stiles flailed his arms, “Yes, really!... I'm going to check on my dad on the night shift first, if he isn't busy I'll meet him at a diner. I expect a phone call from you.” Stiles smiled as he moved towards his jeep. “Danny should be easier to train than Jackson. God, I hope we never go through that Kanima shit again.”

“If you've got some fabreeze, or something, use it before you meet your father.” Derek smiled, “I'll see you later, Stiles.”

“Yeah, you will.”

 

Stiles hopped into his jeep and drove away. Stiles called his father instead of meeting him in person. It was 1:00 in the morning.

“You know you should be sleeping right now, right?” Jed said.

“I am just so happy. I had to talk to you.”

Jed let out a small laugh, “What is it?”

“You've talked to Melissa by now, haven't you?”

“We had a brief sit-down. She assured me you weren't crazy. She also showed me some old hidden files on patients that have come in with life threatening injuries and left hours later. Apparently, there have been we... I still can't say it. Just talking to her assured me that my son was not, in fact, insane. Just how long has this stuff being going on in Beacon Hills?”

“I'm working on the assumption that it has always been there, but really well hidden. It stays that way thanks to most people dismissing it is folklore or whatever. And I mean that in the most literal sense. Unexposed people act like a barrier to the supernatural affecting them. That is Lydia's working theory, anyway. But that is not what I called you about.”

“What is it?”

“One of my friends, Danny, you know him, right? Well, he isn't going to die!”

Silence waited on the other end of the phone.

“Dad? You still there?”

“... when you say, 'he isn't going to die', that means he was in danger to begin with. Does this have to do with what you told me about being bitten? Did Danny get bitten?”

“Err... Voluntarily, if that makes a difference to you.”

“...It does. A little. I take it he wanted to be stronger, and contribute better?”

“Yeah.”

“So tell me. Would you like me be bitten? Seems like a great idea to me. I wouldn't need to worry about disease anymore. I could eat all the burgers I would ever want.”

“What? No! You can't! You could die!”

“Well why not? Your friend Danny did it and he is fine. Now he gets to live a life where bullets won't kill him. I might die tomorrow when some asshole decides to rob a bank, or some shit. If I take the chance at being a wolf on Wednesday, I'll sill be alive on Thursday.”

“This conversation is not going how I imagined it would be going.”

“You're fucking right, it isn't!”

“How about you don't curse at me. I'm having a mental breakdown all day long because my friend choose to flip a coin with his life and-you-say-that-I-can-talk-to-you-about-anything-but-I-can't-talk-to-you-about-this-moment-when-I-finally-feel-some-relief-because-Danny-is-going-to-be-okay.” Stiles inhaled and waited.

After a few moments, “You're right. I'm sorry. If you want, I'll be home early. We can go to the diner, have breakfast, and talk about this.”

“No. We don't have to do that. I need to sleep. Good night, Dad. I love you.”

“...Good night, Son. I love you too.”

Stiles ended the phone call.

 

Ten minutes later and Stiles had pulled out his triple-wrapped stash of pot. One minute later and hazy smoke begun to fill his room. He didn't know exactly how to get the smoke wolves to form, but if he tried hard enough he knew he could do something.

There had to be some sort of happy future he could see. Something better than that shitty one where everyone either dies or vanishes.

The pot hit him a lot slower then it did before.

_Alan isn't here to help right now. Who needs that cryptic fucker anyways?_

_I'd kill anyone who held a gun to my head. I might feel bad about it but what does that matter? In the end they would be dead and I would be alive. I'd do the same if they were holding a gun to my father, or Scott, or pretty much anyone in the pack._

_Maybe not Jackson._

_No... I'd even save Jackson. Then he would say something mean and I'd shoot him in the foot._

_He could take a bullet to the foot. He could definitely take a bullet to the foot._

_Oh... I see the wolves again._

_Time for a test of violence._

 

The white-eyed kid made a barrier of trees to hedge in his pack and keep the monsters away. Hunters perched in those trees, shooting blue bullets at the red-eyed monsters. When the monsters were driven off, he opened the earth to let the dark-eyed wolf man return to where he belonged.

The white-eyed kid became a man and stood hand in hand with the red-eyed wolf man. Time marched on. Smaller wolves and more people split and grew from the original pack of ten.

Everyone was safe. Everyone grew old together.

 

A knock on his window broke Stiles's concentration.

The wolves vanished as the smoke dissipated. Blinking his eyes, the knock came again.

“Who the fuck is there at goddamn two in the morning?”

“You wanted me here. You didn't answer your phone.” Derek's voice replied, “Are you smoking again?”

Stiles's face lit up with a smile, “Oh! Derek! Want to join me?”

“Unlock your window. I'm not talking through the glass.”

Stiles lazily opened the window. Smoke billowed out of the room. Derek coughed as he slipped into the room. Lifting one arm, he breathed through the fabric of his sleeves.

“What are you smoking? You said you wanted to talk. If-”

“Oh my god, put your arm down. Seriously, when was the last time you had a bath? Go shower. Please, just do it. I'm going to have the barrier ready when you get back.”

“I do not smell that bad.” Derek paused, “You're way too high, Stiles.”

“I am not high, Derek. I am being shamanistic. I've been having visions, too. You taking a shower right now hasn't been one of them, but if we're going to be in close quarters I'm going to pretend it was.”

Derek growled, “Fine.”

“I'll get you a change of clothes and leave them outside the door.”

Derek stalked away. Stiles grabbed his orange and blue stripped shirt as well as a pair of shorts. Wondering if Derek would like the joke, or just get mad, Stiles also grabbed something more suitable. Black and black. The preferred combination for grumpy wolves. He sat them all outside the bathroom, contemplated sneaking a peek but didn't, and went back to his room.

A bundle of mountain ash sticks came out from below his bed. By the time they were set all around the room, Derek was back. He was wearing the orange and blue shirt.

Stiles couldn't contain his giddiness, “You wore it! It looks even more ridiculous on you now! You're so muscle-ly and frowny.”

“Are you tormenting me, or do you really like me in this shirt?”

“Can't it be both?”

Derek promptly took off the shirt and put on the larger black one. Stiles didn't stare, but he wanted to.

“What is it, Stiles?”

“Take a seat. I have to complete the circle.”

Derek sat on one of two arranged chairs as Stiles laid out the last sticks. When the final one touched down the room faintly pulsed with white light.

“Okay, so. Not to brag or anything, but I want you to touch the barrier. See how much stronger I've gotten at this.”

“No. Just tell me what you wanted to tell me.”

Stiles sat down in the second chair, “Fine. Party pooper. Peter wants to kill you, take the alpha power, and revert Jackson back to a Kanima by killing Lydia. Then he wants to control the Kanima. Also: If I leave with the alpha pack, they might leave everyone alone but then the whole peter-kills-you thing will happen. And then they'd just grow tired of me, try to give me the bite, and I'd be one of those unlucky few that die from it.”

Derek took a moment.

“What does Alan have to say about all of this?”

“He said that I didn't see the future, that I only saw what I feared.”

“Is that all?”

“He won't give me the time of day until I answer his whole 'do you think it is okay to answer death with death' question. I've been reluctant to answer 'cause he wants me to say no. But come on. You and I both know that death for death is fine. I'd kill someone who was threatening my family. You threaten people with death all the time!”

Derek looked confused. “You would? I did not expect that from you.”

Stiles said, “Of course! What? Did you think I wouldn't? I'd try to find another way, if possible. But sometimes... You know... it has to happen. Like with Peter, the first time around. I'd kill someone who killed my sister. If I had a sister.”

Derek went very still.

“Are you okay, man? You look more constipated than usual.”

“It's... nothing. I'm... It's nothing.”

“ _That's_ a lie.” Stiles smiled. “I'm not letting you out until you talk about it. I'm not going to be the only going through a full body emotional enema over here.”

Derek scowled, “Fine. You know what? I'm just sad that death is always the answer. My life never used to be like this. We were peaceful. We were happy. Then the Argents came. If you want to know who threw the first rock, it was them. If that even matters.” Derek looked away, “Peter is insane. I know he is. I know he wants the power back. The only reason he hasn't challenged me is because he knows he would lose. Him with a Kanima though, that is something I hadn't thought about. But you're right. If I knew then what I know now, I would have killed Kate and Gerard before they got the chance to kill my family. I never would have given Jackson the bite.” Derek coughed. “Why am I talking so much? Damn, what sort of stuff have you been smoking? This stuff is strong.”

“Are... What?”

“I think I got a contact high when you let me in.”

“Contact highs are a lie.”

“Then it must be something else.” Derek waved it off. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“I guess so. Do you really think it was just me seeing my fears play out?”

“Not all of it. I knew not to trust Peter. I hadn't figured out how he would go about it, though. Thanks, Stiles.”

“Good!” Stiles broke the ring of sticks, “I'm glad you already knew about it. It's not something I could safely bring up in conversation, you know? Thanks for putting up with me. At least you got a nice bath out of it. You smell much less like fresh death, now! And that's good.”

Derek coughed, “There it is again. That smell. Your pot is too damn strong, Stiles. You shouldn't be doing this. Maybe...” Derek rubbed his eyes. “You got rid of the alphabane, right?”

“And scrubbed every surface that it touched.” Stiles scrunched his eyes and looked up, down, then towards his stash of pot. Taking the lid off, he shoved it under Derek's face. “Smell that.”

Derek's eyes instantly lit up bright red.

Stiles said, “Oh... did the alpha pack leave me a surprise in there? Something tells me they did...”

With one hand, Derek took the alphabane-laced pot and rubbed it in his face. It got everywhere. Some part of Stiles thought that it was a shameful waste. Derek's other hand grabbed Stiles by the hips and pulled him onto Derek's lap. Another part of Stiles knew that this was a better use of pot then he could have hoped for.

_That other vision from tonight. Is that one going to happen? Is this the start of that?_

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek and involuntarily ground down as Derek buried his head against Stiles's neck. Derek's stubble scratched as he searched for comfort. As realization dawned, Stiles tried to pull away, but Derek growled and snapped them back together. Derek eyes were bright red as he calmly smelled all of Stiles.

_Oh my god. He is out of it. I can't do this. Not like this._

With a small growl, Derek pulled Stiles to the bed. In one swift motion, Derek had Stiles pinned to the bed. Derek smiled as he ground into Stiles's crotch.

“You've got a really big one, don't you? I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am. Nope. This will only end badly for me. I'm glad I made you take a bath. You're not even there anymore, are you? Derek?”

Derek smiled, growled, and playfully collapsed on Stiles.

Stiles said, “Derek. Can you hear me?”

Derek nipped at Stiles's neck. He closed his eyes as he laid his head on Stiles's shoulder.

“Oh, you're going to sleep now? Maybe I can leave you to it...”

Trying to pull away only led to Derek snapping awake, growling into Stiles's neck, and grinding against his side. After a minute of Stiles not resisting, Derek closed his eyes.

_This is going to be awkward in the morning. Oh god. I can feel his cock pulsing. Now I'm thinking of Derek's huge cock. Now, it's wet. And still hard. Why does he get to get off and I don't? He is going to hate himself in the morning._

_But being held like this feels really good._

Sudden shame hit Stiles like an icicle in his gut. Small tendrils of this-is-so-wrong-how-could-I-have-done-this-to-Derek crawled like snakes through his body.

_Derek really can't control himself now, can he?_

Derek's reaction to the alphabane was still fully present and, through several layers of clothes, still firmly pressed against Stiles's side by the time Stiles fell asleep.

 

Stiles awoke at 6:30 to the sounds of boots moving around downstairs. He was alone. Everything was slightly cold. The mountain ash sticks had been pushed back under his bed. The room smelled of fabreeze.

A note had been left on his desk.

 

I am so sorry for my reaction.

Please don't hold it against me.

It will never happen again.

 

“Huh.”

_Now I feel slightly worse. It wasn't your fault, Derek. Tonight is going to be extra awkward._

The sound of boots came clomping up the stairs. Jed poked into Stiles's room.

“Stiles? Are you awake?”

Stiles laid the note down as his father leaned into his room.

Stiles said, “I'm sorry for getting like that on the phone.”

Jed said, “I'm the one that should be apologizing. Not you.”

“It's okay, Dad.”

“No. It's not okay. I want you to come to me and I screwed up. I'm sorry. Want to get breakfast before school?”

Stiles paused before answering. “Yes. Let's do that.”

Jed smiled, “Did you sleep in your clothes, or were you waiting for me to get home?”

“... I was tired. I need to take a shower before we go.”

“Sure thing.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always liked the idea of Derek getting a face full of horny-alpha-weed.


	10. Lydia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia asks two questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love explanations. Sorry not sorry.  
> This chapter is a bit short. That, I am sorry for.
> 
> (We'll return to more happenings next chapter.)

Lydia knew when to let things happen. When Stiles dragged her out to his jeep because he 'just can't watch this right now,' she shut down Jackson's protest before it could start. She already knew where Stiles wanted to go.

Lydia couldn't force more information out of them. She had tried. If she tried any harder she risked the whole situation shutting down, but Stiles could ask as much as he wanted. He asked so many questions and got so side-tracked that Monica and Alan were answering more questions than they wanted to.

Lydia couldn't fake that sort of nature with Monica. The first time she tried, Monica called her on her bullshit. Monica had said, “If you ever act falsely around me again, I will throw you to the wolves and watch as you're torn asunder.”

So Lydia stopped being fake.

But people expected Stiles to be pushy and needy. Jumpy and inquisitive. Generally likeable enough that all the bad aspects of his personality were overlooked.

Lydia knew when to be quiet and just let things happen. This was one of those times.

 

As events slid into place, Lydia was inside Monica's car and on her way to Monica's house well within Lydia's projected time frame. Monica started the conversation when they pulled out of Alan's driveway.

“You were supposed to wait till Friday. Is there a reason that we're doing this now?” Monica asked.

“Stiles wanted a distraction. I am merely taking advantage of the situation.”

Monica sighed, “The lesson I have is not yet ready. We are still having that lesson on Friday, by the way. But for now, I'll let you ask two questions instead. How does that sound?”

Lydia spoke carefully, “...Sure. Okay then: Why are Jackson's eyes blue instead of yellow?”

Monica smiled, “Because we call that hue of reflected light 'Blue' and designate another color as 'Yellow.' It would be very confusing for our society if multiple wavelengths of light were labeled the same, wouldn't it?”

“You...”

_Dammit. I should have been more specific. 'Why are Jackson's werewolf eyes blue instead of everyone else's yellow werewolf eyes?' I should have formulated my question better._

Monica's smile grew wider. “That's one question down. One more, then I'll drop you off at the Hale House.”

“Not at-” Lydia stopped as soon as she realized what she was about to do.

_'Not at your house?' would be a question. If Monica is always going to be like this... Maybe I can still get something out of this._

Monica smiled as Lydia's realization dawned on her face.

“Jackson headed straight for water when the delirium from the Bite took hold. As he regained consciousness, he was just coming out of the water. Derek said that anyone with a normal reaction to the bite would have drowned if they did that. But Jackson was fine...” Lydia paused and contemplated her word choice, “Why did the Bite cause this specific reaction, and why was Jackson not drowned?”

Monica's tone turned serious, “One or the other. Not both. Pick one.”

Lydia thought for a moment, “Why did the Bite cause that specific reaction?”

Monica sighed, “For all the time and energy devoted to understanding why the supernatural reacts the way it does, the best I can do is a theory: Jackson wanted absolutely everything. Power, control over his future, and beauty. The Bite reacted to this by giving him all the power he could ever need, but there was a catch: The loss of his consciousness destroyed his desire for control. By losing himself, his need for power was satiated. By losing himself, his need for beauty was satiated. Most of the ancient stories about real monsters are the result of inner magic reacting to its host. This one is no different.”

“Jackson wanted everything, but most of all he wanted a place to be. That specific desire, since he felt like he had no one, transformed into his need for a master. I chose to not translate that part of Gerard's bestiary correctly because I was telling the truth instead of spreading lies. That bestiary is full of misinformation. It is meant, in part, to brainwash hunters into killing people that could otherwise be saved. If someone he cared about would have befriended him earlier, the curse would have been broken that much sooner.”

While they were stopped at a red light, Monica glanced over at Lydia. Lydia didn't speak. Monica resumed her speech.

“The story of the Kanima as a weapon of vengeance is a skewed story of a specific reptile monster from South America. That person was, in all likelihood, exactly like Jackson. Another monster similar to the Kamina would have to be Medusa. All three of these stories have a lot in common. All three of them fail to include the full scope of events.”

“There are dozens of stories of how and why she turned into a monster, but the majority have one thing in common: She wanted _more_ and was cursed for it. She too became a snake that brought everyone else low so that she would be relatively stronger. Paralyzation, over the centuries of retelling the story, became petrification. Also: In all the stories of Medusa, there is a constant water theme. Either she is raped by Poseidon, her parents are creatures of water, she lives on an island, or maybe all three. The Kanima of South America also takes place in a region of water, the Amazon River Basin. This is because water is both a symbol of, and in actuality, transformative. It is for this reason that Jackson, in the delirium of the Bite, went to water. He specifically wanted more than a normal were-creature. He needed the vast flow of energy and the transformative properties contained in a river.”

By the time Monica stopped talking, they were halfway up the road to the Hale House.

Lydia said, “I didn't expect an essay on the subject. You're usually very evasive.”

“I have reason to be evasive. You're too smart for your own good and you manipulate people.” Monica spoke sternly, “I'll give you this warning as a bonus answer: Right now, the only one Jackson wants is you. If you want to prevent him from reverting to the Kanima, I suggest you help Jackson make some real friends. This Pack is his chance at a normal sort-of life. If you died today, he would likely revert.” Monica stopped the car in front of the Hale house, “The reason the alpha pack is here is probably to get control of the Kanima, have him turn alpha by killing Derek, and then killing everyone who knows anything about it. Right now, the first step in this process is your death.”

Lydia couldn't hide her facial expression at being called out on her manipulative nature. It was also infuriating that Monica said that Jackson could have been saved sooner if only Lydia had done something earlier.

_No one fucking told me anything until I manipulated it out of them. I do this because you're all a bunch of fuckers that won't give me the time of day unless I trick you into it. Why does it have to be this way? Jackson... I love him, but he is so damn mean sometimes. God... Like I'm any better. Obviously, we're meant to be together._

If Monica noticed Lydia's turmoil and pain, she didn't say anything. Lydia had no reaction to Monica's alpha-pack-kanima theory. She figured that out a while ago. To everything else that Monica said, Lydia listened and learned.

“Thank you for your knowledge, Monica.”

Monica sighed and said, “I know you're smart enough to not be offended by what I've said tonight...”

_...So she did notice my reaction. Dammit..._

Monica continued, “... But I have something else to say that you're not going to like. The reason I don't like teaching you any of this is because it's like giving scraps of meat to a lion. I don't know when I'll give you that one piece that causes you to rip my arm off in your search for more. This talk tonight needed to come out sooner or later. Don't make me regret it.”

Lydia quickly said, “I would never do that.”

As the words left her mouth, she knew that they were a lie. Monica knew too.

“Remember what I said about you being false around me? You're tripping on the edge, here.”

“I'm... Sorry,” and Lydia meant it.

Monica said, “Maybe we can both be more honest with each other in the future. I started with this speech tonight. Be ready to talk to me like this on Friday.”

“... I'd... I'd like that.” Lydia found herself meaning _that_ , too.

As Monica opened her door, the interior of the car flashed pale white.

Lydia said, “I didn't even see you activate the barrier.”

Monica said, “Try not to give secrets away when you don't have to.”

_...That was a secret, wasn't it? Setting up a barrier without a visual or auditory reaction..._

“Sorry.” Lydia stepped out of the car, “Thank you, Monica.”

Monica smiled, “Good night, Lydia Martin.”

Lydia shut the door and walked towards the Hale House.

 

Danny woke up just fine. Heeding Monica's advice, Lydia chose to go home alone while Danny and Jackson spent the night together.

_If they decide to fuck, I at least want pictures... Maybe I'll text Jackson something to that effect._

So she did. Jackson replied with a smiley face.

 

School on Wednesday was boring. Jackson and Danny were both absent. Neither of them had sent her any pictures. Stiles and Scott were busy talking about something-or-other all day long. Erica and Boyd made out in the hidden corners and alcoves of the school like it was going out of style.

So Lydia decided to research all of the Greek Myths. All of the original myths could be contained in one or two large books, but the treatises, essays, illustrated novels, and collections that were in-depth studies of those original myths could fill a warehouse.

_Ha. Warehouse, were-house. I can be just as funny as Stiles._

Wresting any sort of useful knowledge from them was a daunting task. But, she had to try.

It wasn't till after she was back home and surrounded by dozens and dozens of books, that she realized today was the day that the Sheriff was going to show up at the Hale House.

She slapped shut The Myth of Perseus and called Jackson to come and pick her up.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't all those myths come together so nicely?  
> I thought they did.


	11. Derek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek finally has it out with Peter.   
> Other things happen too.

Derek felt really good. Better than he had in years. He was warm and comfortable and happy. He had fallen asleep with someone who he knew wouldn't hurt him. Their arm was wrapped around his body, while his arm and leg was wrapped up in them.

Then he remembered where he was.

_Shit shit shit shit. I lost control. Shit._

Upon his return to consciousness, the first thing that Derek experienced was the soft breathing of a curled up and cuddling Stiles. When he opened his eyes, he was looking right at Stiles's sleeping face. It felt good. It felt terrible.

He closed his eyes again. When he opened them, Stiles was still there. Still sleeping. Stiles's mouth was slightly open, his lips gently smiling as he breathed.

Derek carefully extricated himself. Stiles tried to hold tighter, but his grip was easy to avoid. The teen was so out of it Derek doubted that Stiles knew what he was doing.

Derek knew that Stiles was developing an attraction towards him, and yet he still flirted by wearing that stupid orange and blue shirt. Stiles was too young, and if his decade long crush on Lydia was any proof, too prone to debilitating attachment. Anyone romantically interested in Derek was only setting themselves up for a fall. Especially not some kid that knew nothing of life.

If Stiles would have gotten his head out of his ass, he probably would have had several girlfriends or boyfriends by now. Even Erica had said that she had a crush on him at one point in time. That wasn't a lie. She still had flickers of an emotional response whenever Stiles was around.

Why would Derek have even begun to think that reciprocating Stiles's desire was a good idea? Derek was supposed to be the alpha, the leader, the one that made all the right choices for all parties involved. Being with Stiles was not the right choice for either of them. Not right now. Possibly not ever.

Stiles was still asleep as Derek stood in the center of the room, trying to see if any physical damage had been done when he lost control.

_He isn't bleeding. I have no blood on my hands. I can't smell any blood. I can't taste any blood. All I smell is pot. Goddammit, Stiles. Wait. I also smell... Why are my pants so... Fuck. I came in my goddamn pants. More than once?_

With all the grace of a sneaking werewolf with a drying situation in his pants, Derek silently freaked out as he set out to clean the room. With a broom handle he pushed the mountain ash sticks back under the bed. Finding the fabreeze was a simple matter of sniffing it out. Spraying the room didn't wake Stiles.

He stripped, towel washed the come off of himself, and stepped back into his dead-animal clothes.

_I can't smell the pot or come anymore. No one else can either._

Derek left a note of apology on Stiles's desk and silently left the room. He snuck through the shadows towards his car, got in, and after he regained his composure, checked on the status of his pack.

His alpha link to his pack had grown considerably in the past five days. Sometime when he wasn't looking most of the connections turned from ethereal to substantive. Two days ago, the power passing among the pack was light, almost not even there. Right now, threads of power were turning into cables. Erica and Boyd were doing well. Jackson and Danny were doing very well. Scott and Isaac were growing together. Peter was off on his own, just being Peter. The strength of his pack pulsed in time to his own heartbeat.

And then Stiles came to mind. The vibrations of his emotional turmoil caught on the two nearest members of his pack, Scott and Isaac. He knew they noticed the second after it happened.

Derek stopped concentrating. His direct connection to his pack slipped into the background.

Within minutes, a text from Scott beeped on his phone. Derek cringed as he read it.

'r u ok? is stiles ok?

Derek sent back, 'Nothing happening. Go back to sleep.'

Thinking again, Derek sent a second text, 'Sorry for waking you.'

'u sure u'r ok? Stiles 2?'

'Yes. We're fine.'

 

He pulled up to the remains of his house at around six in the morning. It was still dark but growing lighter by the minute. The moon was still a sliver in the sky. Peter was awake and sitting on the porch when Derek got out of his car. If Peter noticed a shift in Derek's scent, he didn't say anything.

Derek didn't say anything, either.

It's not like his opinion of Peter had changed because of Stiles's 'visions'. Derek had always known that Peter would want the power back. The bit about subjugating the Kanima was new, but completely plausible.

It was Peter, after all. Before the fire, Peter was a decent enough guy. This Peter though... This Peter had no trouble using anyone that got in his way. This Peter waited for his chance. This Peter was a constant reminder that Life is a Monster that will eat you up and spit you out the second you turn your back.

Peter said, “Learn anything?”

Derek said, “Not really. Not much I didn't already suspect.”

Peter smiled, “Sometimes I wonder how differently things would have turned out if I bit Stiles instead of Scott. He is rather smart, and all this mystical ability, too...”

Derek sneered, “You might still be the Alpha.”

Peter smiled, “Among other things. Have you considered turning him?”

Derek said, “If he wanted the Bite, he has had ample opportunity to ask.”

“Maybe he's just afraid you'll say no.”

Derek growled, “He doesn't want the Bite.”

“Doesn't surprise me. He didn't want it when I offered it to him, either.”

“... You offered it to him? When?” Derek felt angry. Why was he angry?

“When I was still insane. You know... I could offer it to him again, if you don't want to do it.”

Derek reacted. Peter went flying through a wall of the house. As Derek's eyes rested on the spot where Peter lay Derek realized what he had just done. Peter exposed a possible weakness. If Derek didn't follow through and kill Peter now, Peter would use this against him one day. Besides the overwhelming desire to re-avenge Laura's death, Peter was a cancer that needed to be cut out before he destroyed the pack from within. Peter's existence being offensive wasn't something that was going to go away on its own.

Derek had every possible reason to kill Peter, and he had the power to do so.

But Derek didn't want to live like this. This was not how his parents raised him. But then again, as far as he knew, this situation would have never happened to his father. So, he tried to salvage the situation with misdirection.

“Give me a reason to not kill you. You just challenged my place as the alpha, you killed Laura, and you plan to kill me if the alpha pack doesn't do it for you. Why should I let you live?”

Peter, from below a pile of debris, responded with a groan.

“Get up. You're not that hurt. You've been keeping your healing in check to appear weak. I'm through with your games, Peter.”

The pile of debris went still before Peter simply stood up. A gash on his forehead vanished as he picked a piece of wood from his arm. With a glare, he dusted himself off and walked back outside of the house. The stared at each other for a long moment before Peter finally said something.

“Obviously, keeping myself weak has had the opposite effect that I was hoping for. I apologize for deceiving yo-”

Derek interrupted, “Why should I let you finish talking? Tell me something honest, or this is your last day alive. What's your back-up plan in case this talk ever happened and you couldn't get out of it?”

“I have no backup plan for this. I had always convinced myself that you would be able to see the light of reason, and I wouldn't need a back-up. You haven't gone rabid, have you?”

Peter paused. Derek glared. Peter continued, “I went insane for a little while. A little uncontrolled. Your sister was a casualty, and that I am sorry for, but I was the one that avenged our family. I was the one that murdered the murderers. Not you. It was me. All you cared about was your sister. I cared about everyone. If our fallen family could see us now, what would they think? Do you think they would say: 'Good job Derek for killing the one person who avenged us!' No? Or would they say something more like, 'Why didn't you and Laura kill them in the six years of time you had on your own?' Because I feel that the second one is much more likely.”

Derek didn't know what to say.

Peter said, “Have you ever thought about it like that? That maybe you two should have been hunting the Argents down and, because you didn't, that is the reason your sister lost the power? An alpha is supposed to be strong. Those that aren't, die. I was strong. When I finally came out of my coma I saw what needed to be done and I did it. I took the alpha power and I killed our family's murders.”

“You had no right-”

“I had every right!”

“You don't know what happ-”

“I know enough, and I know I don't care about your story. I don't care exactly how it went down. I don't care that she manipulated you to get near us. All I know is that an opportunity arose for me to take revenge for _our family, OUR FAMILY,_ and I took it. Are you even emotionally capable of handling the coming months? Can you do what needs to be done? You couldn't do it before! Laura and you couldn't do it for six years! _SO,_ when you ask me why I should be allowed to live, I say you to: Your pack will die, once again, because of you. You will die without my strength of conviction.”

Normally, Derek would have threatened Peter's life more than once, by now. He certainly would have had his claws at Peter's throat well before now. If the words hadn't struck that weak spot in Derek's psyche, the beast inside would have forced his hand. He would have ripped Peter's head off.

In the very least, it wouldn't have allowed Peter to keep talking. To keep challenging his authority. To keep hammering that one spot until everything around it began to collapse. As Derek's desire for control crumbled away, his eyes shone bright red.

Derek roared as he leapt at Peter. Peter had done a great job of hiding his fear until that moment. It came rolling off of him in waves, reaching its height as Derek's claws slashed across Peter's chest.

In that instant, they both knew that Derek had pulled his punch. They both knew who was in control. It was a superficial wound for a werewolf. But it accomplished what it needed to do. Peter fell submissive on the ground while Derek loomed over him.

Derek stepped back. His voice calm when he spoke, “You have made some valid points. I will take them under advisement.”

Peter sputtered and coughed as he laid on the ground. Derek waited, arms crossed, for him to stop convulsing. It took five minutes but Peter healed just like a normal werewolf. As the pain written on his face vanished, he sat up and looked at Derek. Derek's brow was furrowed, his eyes no longer red.

Peter said, “Are we through with this shit between us now? I've said my piece, you've had your rebuttal. I would like to be done with this shit.”

Derek said, “My issues with you are done. They are the past now. I don't want to speak of them ever again. _I forgive you. You have no choice but to forgive me._ Now... This pack is your home, too. Treat it as such. I want to see you make an effort to integrate. But...” Derek paused, his eyes swirled red, “The alpha pack heard this whole thing. If I get even the faintest whiff that you are talking to them on your own, I'll have your head. If you turn into a cancer inside this pack, my reluctance to kill will not be a factor when it comes to saving everyone else. Thank you for making me see that.”

Peter sat on the ground and grinned, “Anytime, Nephew. I would hope for nothing less from an alpha.”

 

Derek went inside, laid on the mattress, and lightly slept. Peter went wherever he went. Right now, Derek didn't care where that was.

As long as it wasn't to the alpha pack.

Okay. Maybe he did care where Peter went at this particular moment in time.

Derek opened his mind to his pack. Peter was on the edge of the property and feeling... like Peter. Nothing had changed in who Peter was since the last time Derek checked up on everyone.

But the connection itself, that felt more open. Stronger. Derek let it fall into the background and sighed into the darkness. The sun was already coming up. When Peter came back they would finish the destruction of the old house.

He would probably have to clean up the basement alone. Peter was not going anywhere near the basement if he had a choice. Peter would likely wander off when that job came up. If Isaac, Jackson, and Danny all showed up it would be done in a single afternoon and Derek wouldn't have to do it alone.

Derek wasn't there when the fire happened, but he felt it, faintly, as the strength and protection of his family burned away. When his father, the previous alpha, finally died after an hour of burning and healing and burning, that pack feeling vanished. Derek and Laura cried in each other's arms while their family died, and for hours afterward too.

It wasn't until a day ago, well over six years since the fire, that the familiar feeling of being in a pack was a comfort once again.

_I'll christen this land in the blood of the alpha pack. When they're dead, I can finally step out of this ash-filled life of mine._

_Scott will get back together with Allison and it won't be like it was with me and Kate. It will be real, for them. Then, the remaining Argents won't be a threat. Erica and Boyd will get married and get jobs and maybe some kids will come along soon enough._

_But what if they want to go off to college?_

_Lydia will go to college. Jackson will probably follow her. Danny might go off on his own. They're all smart enough and rich enough to get in anywhere they want. What if they never want to come back?_

_No. I'm not going to think like that. They'll want to stay, or come back. Either is fine. We're all going to be happy together._

_I'll find a way to make them all safe and happy. That's the way my father did it. That is the right way to run a pack. I'm going to do it that way, too._

As Derek sat there thinking, he caught the thin scent of his meeting with Stiles.

… _I'm not going to think of Stiles right now..._

_Dammit. Now I'm thinking of Stiles. Fuck._

_I would like to fuck him. Make him squeal with delight. Hold him in my arms and let everything be alright. He's basically as tall as I am anyway. It's not that weird, is it?_

_Ugh. No. Stop that._

 

Derek watched the ceiling as he tried not to think about ruining Stiles's life with his presence.

 

Jackson and Danny showed up around ten in the morning. Peter was at the river on the edge of the property. Derek was the only one home.

Derek said, “Have any lapses yet, Danny?”

“None. Well... I broke one of Jackson's controllers.”

Jackson said, “Two of them.”

“That one is only slightly damaged. It still functions.”

Derek said, “That's not what I meant. I meant like spikes of anger and claws when you don't expect them.”

Danny thought for a moment before answering, “Nothing that I can remember. Nothing really gets me angry.”

Jackson chuckled, “That's not true.”

Derek asked, “What does that mean?”

Jackson spoke when Danny didn't, “Politics will get him angry. We never talk about them because we always end up fighting. But we do need to see how he'll react on the full moon, don't we?”

Danny said, “Stop it, Jackson.”

Danny's eyes started to glow the whitest yellow that Derek had ever seen.

Jackson said to Derek, “Want me to make him angry for you?”

Derek was suddenly unsure, “... Yes.”

“You're such an asshole, Jackson.”

Jackson smiled, “I wish Bush could have had a third term in office. Laws shouldn't apply to people who are making lots of money, maybe they'll make more money for all of us. Maybe we'd have better gas prices if we just nuked everything and claimed it for America. Women should lose legal control of their bodies if they have a baby in them.”

“Ass-” Danny howled as his face morphed.

Jackson laughed, “You have the most ridiculously easy buttons to push, Danny.”

Danny's eyes blazed into yellow moonlight as Jackson tore off into the woods. Long white claws slashed out of Danny's fingertips as he arched his legs and bounded after Jackson. Jackson ducked behind a tree, avoided Danny's claws, and swung around to kick Danny in the side.

Danny connected with a tree and hit the ground. He was up in half a second and bounding back towards Jackson. Derek, red-eyed and furious, stepped between them and roared. Danny altered course for Derek. Derek swiped Danny down and roared again. Danny got back up only to be swiped back down. The third time he stayed on the forest floor. Jackson kept laughing. Derek glared at Jackson and the laughter stopped.

Danny shook his head. He didn't cower from Derek, but he didn't move to strike either. The glow of his eyes faded as the anger dissipated.

Danny said, “What... Was that what you all go through?”

Derek said, “It's different for everyone. But yes. That anger, the power, the desire, it's all the same. Usually, you'd have an anchor that you concentrate on to bring you back to yourself. But you're normally in control, even as a wolf. Instead, you have a trigger to bring the wolf to the surface. It's anger that gets you there, just like everyone else, but you only get angry from a certain thing. We can uncover exactly what sets you off by the time of the full moon.”

Jackson said, “I always knew you were a raging liberal. Now, it's not an exaggeration.”

Danny's eyes swirled with cream-colored light. Derek waited for Danny to make a move, but Danny just sat down cross-legged in the leaves. His eyes gradually faded as he looked up.

“It's indignant anger. I don't like that some people think they're better than others, that their opinions are better than others', just because of the circumstances of their life.”

Derek said, ”You've thought about this before.”

“It's at the heart of every problem this world has. It's why the alpha pack thinks they have the right to play these games. They think that power gives them the right to kill. They-”

As Danny spoke, his eyes began to light up.

Derek interrupted, “Stop. We found your trigger. We're moving on to training.”

 

After a few runs around the property that tired no one, Peter joined them in demolishing the rest of the house. Before they started, Derek took the old door with the alpha pack symbol on it and placed it against a tree near the road.

Danny was back to his normal good-natured self as they each took a sledge hammer and wailed apart the last remaining walls of the old house. Soon enough, the two boys were laughing about something. Derek noticed that Peter was smiling, and he couldn't help but smile himself.

Peter even helped when it was time to clear out the basement.

Lunch was leftover meat from last night's cookout. They were completely finished with demolition by two in the afternoon.

They all went skinny dipping in the nearby lake to wash off. After that, they were all hungry again, so Derek took everyone out to eat a second lunch.

The permits for rebuilding the house were done a day early and with no complications, thanks to Jackson's father. When Derek spoke to Mr. Whittemore to thank him, Mr. Whittmore said: “I'm not quite sure how you and my son are connected, but this is the first thing Jackson has asked for in a while, so I did it without asking many questions. The Hales never got in trouble with anyone, so I trust you for now. Don't make me regret this.”

Derek said, “Thank you,” and walked out the door.

_That wasn't that bad. Could have been much worse._

_I hope it goes that well with the Sheriff tonight._

Jackson and Danny parted from Derek and Peter for now.

When they were alone in the car and headed back to the property, Peter started talking.

“You're getting better at this.”

“Danny will be easy to train. I've never seen anything like him before. It's usually difficult for new wolves.”

“I'm not talking about that. Everything is finally starting to look up. It's starting to come together. It's starting to feel like a pack again.”

Derek nodded, “Yes. It is.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What I did with Danny might be utterly ridiculous to some people.  
> But I just couldn't stop thinking this way when I first got the idea.  
> Sorry for getting politics in a fanfic. I probably shouldn't have done it that way.
> 
> Bonus: The original line for Danny calling Jackson an asshole (the second time) went like this:  
> "Ass-" Danny growled, his voice shifting lower, "hooooowwll!"
> 
> But every time I read it, it was just too silly. Entirely too silly.


	12. Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sheriff comes to a pack meeting and other assorted events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, to all of you who have made a comment or given kudos.  
> Thank you, so much.

Breakfast with his father was, even as hard as it was keeping their conversations low enough so that no one overheard them, breathtakingly wonderful. At least it was for Stiles. Stiles could see that he was wearing his father ragged with each new bit of information about the pack. But it needed to come out. As the secrets spilled forth, Stiles felt less and less like a horrible person.

“Most supernatural creatures are really very quiet, or just unable to manifest on this side of reality, and end up living on the edges of human consciousness. At least that's what the wizard says. But a few breeds of creature are solidly real. Like were-creatures. Like Derek and everyone-”

Jed interrupted, “Derek... Hale? Was that house fire years ago because of this stuff?”

Stiles paused. “Oh. Um. Yes. Is that a... hmm... He's a really good guy, Dad. A great guy, even. There were a lot of misunderstandings. Sooo many misunderstandings.”

“I can see how there would be. This would explain why the Hale family was always so reclusive. I always found it strange that they didn't do more in the community. They were one of he richest families in town.”

“We're going to start rebuilding the house soon. Derek has plumbers and electricians and materials all lined up.”

“Tell me what normally happens when a... a creature, gets out of line. They're not all super-peaceful people that never have any problems, are they? This alpha pack can't be a new thing. I never knew this stuff was real until recently, so someone must be keeping it under wraps. It's not more wizards, is it?”

“No. Alan says that there aren't many real wizards. He doesn't even think of himself as a wizard.”

Stiles said the name before he knew what he was saying. As Jed scrunched his face in thought, Stiles discovered that Alan Deaton was someone of whom his father knew nothing about. But sometime today, Jed could probably do a thorough check of everyone in town named Alan and would find the one with the last name Deaton. The one that's Scott's boss. That's two connections right there. Enough to warrant a visit from his father.

Stiles continued, “Most of them call themselves Hunters. I told you about them before. Seriously, if you knew how many vigilantes were out there silently helping you, you'd have an inferiority complex.”

“Yeah, I remember now. You said Bud at the station was one.”

“I'd like to call them decent people. Their goals are supposed to be to kill creatures that kill people, right? But of all the hunters I have seen... I think they're all just a little bit drunk on power. Got that whole, 'Yeah, you're not human, therefore you deserve to die. It doesn't matter if you've never hurt anyone,' thing going on. A few of them do claim to follow some rules. Those hunters have codified it into something they call The Code. Big ol' capital T capital C. They also made a bestiary of a lot of the different creatures out there. Lydia translated the whole things days ago.”

“Do you have a copy of either of those anywhere? I'd like to see them.”

“Yeah. I can give a copy of the bestiary to you. But not The Code. Nope. I think it's something they tell themselves to make the killing seem alright. It doesn't actually exist. At least... I am _reasonably sure_ it doesn't really exist.”

… _Oh. Killing isn't a good solution. I guess I do agree with Deaton. I'll have to tell him that._

Jed said, “You stopped. What happened?”

“Just thinking about a conversation I have to have with a certain wizard.”

Soon enough, breakfast needed to end. The school day was an hour from starting.

Stiles knew that his dad was having trouble accepting everything that Stiles had said. But Stiles was finally free of the oppressive weight of a thousand lies. So he felt rather good.

They went back home. Jed looked conflicted as he took a copy of the bestiary from Stiles.

Stiles said, “A lot of it is meant to scare the reader. I know for a fact that a lot of the stuff about werewolves is false. Their favorite food is not, in fact, bloody people. Derek's is steak. Normal cow steak.”

When that was over, Stiles hopped into his jeep and headed to school.

 

School started off with a horrible reminder that Stiles's life was never that easy.

Scott whispered to Stiles in the middle of class, “Do you think your dad will freak out tonight? Will he bring his guns? How many guns does he have? Did you tell him about wolfsbane?”

And just like that, Scott had put the weight of the world back onto Stiles's shoulders.

Stiles whispered, “I forgot. That's what I was preparing him for this morning, but... Oh my god. Thank you for that horrible reminder, Scott.”

Scott paused, and asked, “Do you think he'll bring other officers? He doesn't have any wolfsbane bullets, does he? Does he think you're crazy?”

Stiles suddenly felt tired. When he rolled his head onto his desk and groaned, the teacher harrumphed.

“Mr. Stilinski! Do you find something offensive about the homoerotic subtext of Gilgamesh?”

“No. I love homoerotic subtext. Just dieing of other reasons over here.”

She said, “Please confine your death wails to yourself.”

Scott snickered.

Stiles whispered, “Bite me, Scott.”

Scott whispered, suddenly offended, “I would never do that. Don't ever ask me.”

… _I'm friends with an idiot._

 

School dragged on. Stiles felt worse and worse as the hours till the pack meeting whittled away. Scott tried to be a comfort, but he wasn't good at it. But he did genuinely try, and that was just as important as doing it well. Boyd and Erica were off in each other's pants every chance they got. Lydia had her nose in a hundred different books. Isaac was still absent. Jackson and Danny were absent, too. Danny was missed. Jackson could be pinned under a pile of rock and Stiles wouldn't care.

_Maybe I would care. Just a little, though._

When the day was over, Stiles headed home and collapsed on his bed.

Three hours later his father knocked on his door.

“Are you awake?” Jed said.

Stiles opened one eye and said, “Nope. This is a pre-recorded message. Stiles is still asleep.”

“Alan Deaton, eh? How many jokes have you made to your friends about having a vet for a doctor?”

Stiles snapped awake and sat upright, “Umm... One or twenty. What did you do?”

Jed walked into his room and sat on the chair, “I had a much more coherent conversation than I usually have about this stuff. He was surprised you gave me a copy of the bestiary. He said that it was full of half-truths, too.”

“... Scott was wondering, worried really, if you were going to be bringing your guns tonight?”

“It's not like they would do much good. The guns are staying at home. What time should we show up? Does everyone go to these things?”

“We've been doing this for less than a week. We don't have a set time yet. Sometime in the evening. Us humans hang out while they all do their training, mostly. Then there is a grill. Derek can grill really well.”

“We shouldn't show up empty handed. we'll stop by the store and pick up a few things, first. What are your average ages?”

“Derek is like, 22, I think. Most of us are 16-18. I don't know how old Peter is. Probably your age.”

Jed's tone shifted, “I did not expect one adult and a handful of impressionable kids. Thank god you have at least one adult with you. Or what is he, a pedophile? A bunch of kids playing around with the supernatural. A bunch of people who like to bite and kill others? God damn. It's like-” Jed's face turned several shades of red darker as he spoke several decibels louder. When he cut himself off, he breathed in and out. His voice returned to normal, “I promised you I won't do anything sheriff-y. But I am not promising I won't get angry if these people are somehow taking advantage of you kids.”

Stiles tried to not have a panic attack. He succeeded.

“I will take that offer and hold you to it. Should we get you some Jack while we're at the store?”

“Just beer, tonight. You're driving.”

“Let's go, then.”

Stiles grabbed his bag. A minute later they were in the jeep.

 

Stiles and Jed walked through the grocery store. Jed was on a mission to finally get to eat the biggest damn steak he felt like eating. Stiles did not think it prudent to remind his father of his health issues. Jed was two steps away from a full-on officer-of-the-law warpath.

Stiles would find a way to make it up to his father's health another day. For now, this day was for cheating on his diet. A box of cookies, a 12 pack of beer, and a package of the best steaks that the store had in stock.

Jackson and Danny walked around the aisle and spotted Stiles while Jed was turned around, comparing bags of chips. Danny was about to call out when Stiles flailed his hands in a definite do-not-approach signal. Jackson yanked Danny backwards and out of sight.

A box of cereal was caught in the motion. It went flying.

Jed turned around, “What was that?”

Stiles spoke nonchalantly, “I think a bird got into the store.” Stiles pointed to the chips, “Why not get both? We're already cheating on your diet. Might as well do it all the way.”

Jed threw both of the bags into the cart.

Stiles said, “We can go run a few miles this weekend to counteract tonight. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like someone wants to be grounded.”

“Oh, come on. I just want you to live longer.”

“If I live through tonight without killing anyone, then we can talk about the weekend.”

“That works too.”

Stiles felt queasy. Lightheaded and not quite with it. Everything was quickly becoming too much.

“I'll be right back. Need to use the bathroom.”

Stiles took off before his father could say anything.

The bathroom was a small affair. One urinal, two stalls, and two sinks. Stiles stared at himself in the mirror, washed his face twice, and stared some more. A red haired woman walked into the bathroom as Stiles turned around to leave.

Stiles quacked out, “Mens bathroom.”

Her eyes lit sunshine red, “I know. I'm not here to use the facilities.”

“Oh holy shit. Tonight? Right now? You should have been able to hear me. I'm already about to die of a heart attack. Are you killing me before the games even start? Is that what this is? Or do you just want to emotionally torture me until I have an aneurism?”

If her eyes weren't lit up, she might have garnered a non-terrified second look from Stiles. Her short hair was bright red, she wore a tank top that barely contained her breasts, and her baggy camo shorts exposed very sexy legs. She was slightly shorter than Stiles. She might have been in her late twenties. As Stiles appraised her, she seemed less and less like a real person and more and more ageless.

And then she smiled the most genuine smile Stiles had ever seen on an alpha werewolf.

She held out an unclawed hand and said, “My name is Morgan. Nice to meet you, Stiles Stilinski.”

Stiles took a step back, “Pardon me if I don't shake hands with someone that wants to kill me.”

She was still grinning. She let her hand drop to her side. “I'm sorry to have to do it like this. But I wanted to meet you in a way where our meeting wouldn't be instantly talked about to your pack. You have so much on your plate right now.”

“... Are you the one that left the alphabane in my room? I thought you were a dude.”

“I love your smarts,” She smiled again, “I can be a dude, if you'd prefer that.”

In an instant shifting crackle of red light, Morgan grew a foot taller, loomed above Stiles, hulked out, and put Derek's body right to shame. Even the package in her (his?) now non-baggy shorts was bigger than Derek's. She was now most definitely a he.

Morgan spoke with a much deeper, but no less playful, voice, “I thought being a girl would be less scary for you. But I see now that either of me would have been fine.”

Stiles was less scared, and more intrigued, “I was expecting more painful looking claws, and less... that. Now, I've seen everything.”

Morgan smiled a bright, happy smile. “You haven't seen anything, yet. That's what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Uh-”

Morgan interrupted, “We don't have a lot of time. So I'm going to talk, can you just listen for now? I wanted to offer you a trade. As long as we got a few concessions I could get the pack to leave. Interested?”

“Um-”

“I want you, Stiles Stilinski. I want your crazy neurotic self. I want to listen to you talk about anything and everything that you want to talk about. I want to show you the world and make everything good for both of us. But first, I want to date you. Take you out to a movie. Buy you dinner. And then have you make a decision on the rest. I can get the pack to leave, so I can't deny that we might not start this relationship on the purest of terms. But I do want you to know that I'd hope for the best between us. If you want me to be rough like Derek, I can do that too. But I'd only do that with your consent.”

Morgan cocked his head as he listened to something. He turned back to Stiles, “Your father is wondering what's taking so long. I hope it goes well with him tonight. Family is very important. Oh. Um. That might have sounded like a threat. I'm sorry for that. I really didn't mean it. I'm not going to threaten you, ever. Unless you want me to... I have to go now. If you want to talk again, and I hope you do, just call my name. Bye now.”

Morgan slipped out the door.

Stiles felt lost. With feet like lead, Stiles trudged out of the bathroom.

Stiles found his father at the checkout counter.

“Are you okay?” Jed asked.

“I'm fine.” Stiles said.

Jed took a second look at Stiles, “Are you sure?”

“As long as you're fine, I'm fine.”

“Ah. Well then.”

 

When they arrived at the remains of the Hale House it was around six. More than an hour of sunlight was left in the day. The fire was already going strong. Cars were parked everywhere. Scott and Isaac's bikes leaned against a tree.

Jed said, “Where's Derek and Peter staying while they rebuild?”

“I have no idea.”

Jed stared at Stiles.

“... There is a second den on the other side of town. Stop grilling me for answers. We're here now, you can ask them! Can I crawl off into a corner of the woods while you yell at them?”

“Nope. You're staying in my sight all night long. I'll decide how long you should be grounded based on tonight's events.”

“... I'll get the bags.”

Stiles jumped out of the jeep, grabbed the bags, and started walking towards the fire. Jed stood by the jeep as though he was waiting for the snipers to show themselves.

Scott met Stiles half way and took half of the bags from him.

Stiles turned around and called back to his dad, “Dad.”

Jed began walking forward. He had that sheriff-y look on his face.

 

Stiles walked past Derek to get to the gang. Derek waited for Jed to come closer. Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Lydia, Jackson, Danny, and Scott sat on the edge of their chairs while waiting for Stiles to say something. Stiles said nothing. Peter silently tended to the grill.

Jed stopped short of Derek, “I've heard you're raising an army of children for a war you started. Did you know that most civilized nations take a pretty harsh stance on that, including this one?”

_Oh my god, Dad. Just get right to the point, why don't you? Always the cop._

Derek said, “I did not start this fight, but I do mean to end it.”

Jed said, “You don't think that coming here, staying here, or just being here at all is what started this? Did you willfully ignore that fact?”

Derek said, “The Hales were here long before Beacon Hills was even a stop on the railway. We were the gold miners that forged this land. We carved out this area from the supernatural forces that have always been here. If you expect me to be sorry for living where generations of my family have always lived, then we're at an impasse.”

Stiles whispered to Scott, “I've never heard him talk this much. He's never this coherent. Did you guys practice? What am I saying. Of course you practiced this.”

Scott said, “Lydia, mostly. Peter helped with the details.”

Stiles looked around. Peter was emotionless. Lydia was even more emotionless than usual.

Jed said, “Why kids? Why not adults? Why not people capable of making and living with this life altering decision?”

“The younger they are the easier it is for them to change. With the exception of Scott, they all chose this for their own valid reasons.”

Jed paused before speaking again, “You expect a child to have a valid reason? Is that all the answer I'm going to get? Are you a pedophile?” Jed yelled towards Peter, “Is that Peter Hale? Is that guy a pedophile? Do you fuck children, Mister Trenchcoat?”

Derek looked unnerved. So did Lydia. Peter's back was turned towards Jed, but Stiles saw his grin.

Stiles loudly said, “Oh my god. Dad.”

Jed shot back, “I want an answer.”

Scott whispered to Stiles, “Peter and Lydia thought he might say that. Derek didn't want to touch it with a ten foot pole.”

Derek spit out, “We're not pedophiles. We don't... We're all in this together now. It's not our fault. But we're going to fight and we're going to win. Are you going to cooperate, or does Stiles need to take you back home?”

Jed glared, “Did you Stockholm Syndrome all of these kids? I know the symptoms when I see them. Everything about Stiles's actions makes sense now. If you hurt my son, I will locate this alpha pack, if they even exist, and help them kill you to free these kids. If you gave yourself up, would they spare these kids?”

At that, Stiles rushed back over to his father, “Dad! Please.”

Jed said, “Stay out of this, Stiles.”

Derek said, “They came here for more than me. They want to cull everyone of us until those that remain turn rabid. Those, they'll release into town. They'll begin killing people without knowing what they're doing. Hunters will track them. They'll die without a shred of humanity left. That, is what is at stake here. That, is why we need to be a strong pack. Will you help us?”

“And you think you can do this? You think you're strong enough? How?”

“Because we have to.”

Jed paled, “... My kid is going to war in four months and there is nothing I can do to save him, is there?”

Derek glanced at Stiles, “Stiles is one of the strongest ones here. He'll probably end up saving us more than we'd be saving him.”

Jed looked to Stiles, “... Good.”

Stiles's whole face turned red.

Jed said, “Got the grill already going?”

Derek said, “Yep. Want a steak?”

Jed said, “I brought a few. They're in the bags. Can you grab me a beer, Stiles?”

“Sure thing, Dad.”

_That probably went as good as it could have possibly gone._

 

The ragged edges of Stiles's emotions calmed as the night went on.

When Derek had them all wolf-out, that one specific moment in time, that was when Stiles knew that this was finally real to his father.

While Jed processed this harsh reality, Derek took the pack for a run around the property. Afterward, he led the pack is what was best classified as some sort of yoga for werewolves.

Jed spoke to everyone. Stiles nearly died of second-hand mortification at least a dozen times.

Erica said that she was given a new chance at life, thanks to the Bite. Jed approved.

Boyd said he was given a family thanks to the Bite. Jed approved.

Scott didn't want to be a werewolf, but he wasn't going to leave his friends either. Jed was sympathetic.

Isaac didn't want to be weak anymore. Jed disapproved.

Jackson wanted everything and didn't give a shit if Jed approved or not.

Danny wanted to protect everyone. Jed withheld judgment.

Peter deflected all questions. Jed was pissed off, but didn't let it affect him.

Derek got a nod, and that was it. Jed already talked to Derek as much as he wanted to.

 

The subject of Morgan never left Stiles's lips.

 

Stiles and Jed left before everyone else. It was around ten and fully dark by the time they got home. Stiles felt drained. Even his constant chatter had ceased by the time they were inside and sitting at the kitchen table.

Stiles said, “That wasn't so bad. Right, Dad? … Right?”

Jed said, “Are you really safe for the next four months?”

“Probably. I don't know. I can't read the future very well. Yet.”

“... 'Very well'? 'Yet'?... Just what are you getting into with Deaton? How are you the strongest member of the pack?”

“Um... I'm not. Derek was just being nice.”

“Oh.” Jed looked deflated, “I'm teaching you how to shoot a gun this weekend. You're going to tell me what you're doing with Deaton.”

“Am I grounded?”

“Not unless you start lying again.” Jed stood up, “I'm going to bed. Don't stay up too late.”

“I never stay up too late!”

“Lying already?”

“It's not a lie. It's a difference of opinion.”

Jed smiled. It wasn't a whole-hearted smile. Stiles knew the difference. This one was weak, like Jed was barely holding it together. Stiles stood up and walked towards his father for a hug.

Jed held Stiles tight, “I really can't do anything to stop this, can I?”

Stiles's only response was to hold his father tighter.

 

It wasn't until Jed was fast asleep and Stiles was still awake at midnight, still tapping away at the computer while listening to music, that Stiles remembered he didn't talk to Derek about last night.

_What would I even say?_

As if on cue, a tapping came rapping on his bedroom window.

Stiles face planted onto the floor. Derek was on the other side of the glass. Stiles began cursing and didn't stop until well after Derek was let in and standing in the middle of his room.

Derek interrupted, “Done yet?”

“No. You fucking asshole. Don't scare me like that ever again. I'm tired of that shit. Text me before you tap on the window. I'm tired of alphas just showing up and scaring the shit out of me. The next one that does it is getting the harshest response I can manage.”

Derek frowned, suddenly serious, “Don't do that, Stiles. You might be ready but no one else is. Did one of them see you today?”

Stiles attempted to calm down, “Fine. Whatever. You're right. But we're not talking about that. I want to talk about last night.”

“Stiles...”

Stiles paused before he spoke, “I am sorry for last night. I didn't mean to shove alphabane in your face. That wasn't your fault. It was all my fault and I'm sorry. I didn't know it was in there.”

Derek kept frowning, “Did an alpha visit you today?”

“We're not going to talk about the fact that I intimately know what your boner feels like? As intimately as having it poking into my side for a few hours, anyway.”

Derek kept frowning, “What did the alpha say?”

“We're not, are we?”

Derek's default expression was a frown, “Stiles...”

“No. You do not get to dictate how I'm handling the alpha from today. If I want to talk to you about it, I will. Chances are I will, but not until we talk about last night.”

“Fine. Then we won't talk about either. How is your father?”

Stiles glared. He knew he couldn't glare as well as Derek. But he had damn well tried.

Stiles said, “About as good as could be expected.”

“Good.”

Derek left through the window. He was gone by the time Stiles got there.

Stiles stuck his head out and said, “It wasn't your fault. It just... happened... I'm going to talk to Scott about this if you don't talk to me!”

A pair of red eyes glared out from the shadows. They walked away.

“I'll do it. I will!”

Ten minutes later Stiles was laying awake in bed. He had placed highly charged mountain ash stick outside the window to deter any more tapping and creeping. His phone went off with a text from Derek.

'You would never.'

Stiles said, “Oh oh oh! Never tell a Stilinski what to do!”

Stiles resolved to talk to Scott about all of his boy and boy/girl problems tomorrow.

_I've suffered through Scott's Allison stuff for months. He can listen to my relationship problems, even if it kills him inside._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments. Please feel free to critique everything/anything, or whatever.


	13. Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Stiles chapter.  
> There is explicit sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry.

The school day started off awkward. Scott's answers to Stiles's blabbering were shorter than usual. Jackson looked like he was more angry-ish than his normal irritated-ish look every time that Stiles was near. Danny was grumpy. Lydia still had her head in the books. At least that hadn't changed.

He didn't even see Erica or Boyd until lunch.

When Stiles joined everyone else at the lunch table, the conversation that was already in progress died. It was replaced by fidgeting and more than a few off-put looks. Stiles decided this had quickly become unacceptable behavior.

Stiles said, “What is going on? All day long you guys have been like this. I haven't even seen Boyd or Erica until now. I think you're avoiding me. Is this about last night? I know my dad was pretty intense, but you don't have to avoid me because of it. Everything turned out okay. Really, it can only get better from here.”

Scott said, “It's not you... not exactly.”

“Then what is it?”

Erica said, “We know Derek went to check on you last night, to see how it went with the Sheriff. Ever since then there's been this uneasy feeling. It's practically pouring off of him.”

Lydia asked, suddenly less interested in her book and more interested in the conversation, “Does it make you feel like you don't want to be in the pack?”

Erica said, “No... That sort of feeling doesn't really happen.”

Danny said, “It makes me want to fix whatever is broken.”

Scott said, “I want to know what happened. I don't like this feeling.”

Boyd said, “Is the Sheriff really okay with this?”

Stiles said, “It can only get better from here. I hope. I'm sure. Yes. It can only get better from here.”

Scott, Erica, Boyd, and Danny all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Lydia asked, “Do you all feel emotionally better, now? Has that uneasy feeling gone away?”

Danny said, “Yeah, mostly. You're asking some strange questions, Lydia.”

Lydia smiled, “It wasn't just Derek that was uneasy. I think it was a vicious feedback loop within the pack. A majority feels bad about something, then the rest of you feel it, then those people feel bad. A loop.”

Stiles said, “When did you learn that?”

Lydia said, “Just a part of a theory I have. There is a reason that Monica is a guidance counselor. It was the best profession to get into considering she had already built up all the skill-sets required by her real job.” Lydia paused, “Solve, or work through, an issue in a pack. Make sure they don't all fall apart from the complications of their human emotions. No one goes omega, no one goes rabid. Save lives. This is still a very young pack, so I'd also guess that when the bonds are forming your emotions spill over more? I really don't know.”

Scott said, “Cool...”

Lydia said, “Would you consider yourself truly relived to hear that the Sheriff is okay with all of you?”

Everyone except Jackson said, “Yes.”

Lydia said, “If that feeling is completely gone by the end of the day, I'll have been proven right.”

Stiles said, “Thank god that is over with. Are we back to normal speaking terms?”

Scott smiled, “Yeah, dude. I don't know what came over me. It's like you were talking to me and all I could think was, 'stop talking stop talking.' And now all of that is just going away. Sorry, man.”

Jackson said, “How the hell are you stronger than me? 150 pound shit.”

Stiles shot back, “Glad to know some things never change. Jackson is still an ass.”

“Stiles. Jackson.” Lydia said, “Why don't you two work it out after school? I have a theory that this will never go away unless you beat him in a fight. It's a dominance thing.”

Jackson said, “I'd love to see him try.”

Stiles said to Lydia, “Really?”

Lydia said, “Yes, really.”

Stiles didn't know whether to be happy that Jackson is asking for a fight, and it is therefore okay to kick his ass, or that from everyone's interested looks, that everyone else wants to see Stiles be awesome too.

Stiles decided to go along with it and _just_ _be awesome_.

Stiles said, “Tonight, then. At Derek's.”

Jackson said, “Might want to bring an extra set of clothes so you can change after you piss yourself.”

_Oh. This is going to be good._

 

After school Stiles invited Scott over to his house. Jed was out on duty and would be until next morning. They sat in Stiles's room where Stiles promptly stalled for time.

Stiles said, “How're your grades, Scott?”

Scott said, “Getting better. Isaac is coming back to school tomorrow. He was working on make-up exams all day today.”

Stiles said, “How is living with him?”

“It's fine. He's a pretty quiet guy, but I'm getting him to open up. I think he really wants a good friend. He cooks dinner. He likes to make chicken parmesan. You said it was urgent on the phone. You didn't just want to know about Isaac, did you? 'Cause you should just come over and we can all just hang out.” Scott narrowed his eyes at Stiles, “What's up? You're going to be okay, right? Jackson won't be able to hurt you, will he?”

Stiles said, “Naw, man! I got this. But I need to talk to you about other things.”

“What is it?”

“Um... How should I put this?” Stiles paused. Scott waited. “I'm having love issues, okay? Well, maybe not love issues. How about: potential love issues? That sounds better. More accurate.”

“That's what's so urgent? You've never talked about anyone but Lydia.” Scott flared his nose, “You don't smell like her. Lydia didn't do anything to you today, did she?”

“This is about as far from Lydia as my love issues can get. You're always smelling everything, aren't you?... You were trying to smell if she was on me, weren't you?”

“...Yeah.”

“Here goes. Don't freak out on me,” Stiles talked fast, “Four things. I'm bisexual and I'm completely over Lydia. I think I have a thing for Derek. I've been offered a chance to sell myself to one of the alpha pack members in exchange for everyone's wellbeing.”

Stiles waited while the weight of his words sunk in. Scott looked confused.

Scott said, “Like a princess being married off to a threatening kingdom, or something?”

“What? None of the rest of it garners any attention? The first thing you fixate on is my likeness to a princess? Which one am I? Belle, or Mulan? The fate of our friendship depends on your next answer.”

Scott smiled, “Dude. I've known you were bi for a long time. I'm glad you've finally realized it. Also: I'm _really_ glad you're over Lydia. You have no idea how good that news is. The Derek-thing is a bit weird, but I could smell your attraction to him growing for a while, now. I've had time to adjust to the idea. The first time I smelled it was frightening. I even had a nightmare! You were being sacrificed on an altar in the mi-”

Stiles interrupted, “I really don't want to hear that nightmare. No way.”

Scott kept smiling, “And if I said Belle, would you hate me forever?”

“For a long time. But not forever.”

“Would red riding hood be a better choice?”

“Oh my god. You're terrible. She isn't even a princess. And you don't seem very concerned. I'm concerned. Why are you not concerned?”

“You're not really thinking about accepting the offer, are you? _Are you_?” Scott stood up, his arms went wide in exasperation, his voice rose. “No! You can't believe them! We all have to stick together. Whatever they've told you, it's a lie. It has to be! I change my answer to Mulan. She was the independent one, right?”

“I don't know if it's a lie or not. What if it isn't? He/she was very convincing.”

“They tried to do the same thing to Danny. He saw right through them. Why can't you?”

“Because I want to believe that I can do this one thing and save everyone. That's the offer on the table. Mark wasn't offering this. Mark's offer was a non-offer.” Stiles paused, “Morgan is his/her name. He/she offered everyone's safety in exchange for my hand. He/she wants to date me. To have us fall in love with each other. To show me the world and leave everyone here alone. If the offer was real and it was for you, would you do it?”

Scott fell silent and sat back down.

After a minute, Scott said, “Can't you fall in love with Derek and make this much simpler?”

Stiles laughed then said, “Derek doesn't want me. Tell me, Scott. Would you do this if it was you they wanted?”

“I don't know, man. I don't know... Why do you keep saying he/she?”

“Because Morgan is able to shapeshift from a man to woman and back again. He/she did it right in front of me, too. I'd have to say, man-Morgan puts Derek to shame.”

Scott looked shocked, then intrigued, then disturbed, then sad.

Scott said, “I don't want you to go.”

Stiles said, “I know you don't. I don't want to go, either. That isn't what this is about.”

“Isn't that all this has to be about? You not wanting to go is more than enough reason not to.”

“No. Scott. My desires don't matter compared to everyone else's lives. If all I have to do is love a member of the alpha pack, then I can be sad for a while.”

“They enjoy hurting people. This whole thing is one fucked up game to them! Morgan is probably just as bad as the rest of them. How could you think this is a real option?”

“And what if it is?”

“Fine! Bring it up tonight. Everyone else will think it's a terrible idea. No one will want you to go.”

“Even if it means their lives?”

Scott's eyes flashed gold, “We're not helpless. We don't have to do what they say and neither do you.”

_I hope you're right._

 

They met Morgan on their way out the front door. He calmly stood at the edge of the porch with a red heart box of what was likely chocolates, and a folder of papers. If it wasn't for the fact that Stiles knew that Morgan was dangerous, and not in that sexy-Derek kind of way, Scott would probably tell Stiles to stop smelling like it was sex-time.

As it was, Stiles yelped, Scott growled, and Morgan smiled.

Scott yelled, “He doesn't want you. Go away!”

Morgan ignored Scott and held out the box and papers, “I know it's hard to believe that this could be a real offer. But it really is. As proof of my sincerity, these papers detail my...” His smile faltered but he kept being cheerful, “Sorry. The papers are about life with my late husband. We had a long and happy life together. He died twenty years ago. We were married for sixty seven years. He was mystically gifted just like you. He remained a human the whole time. He was not directly involved in my work, but that was only because it was his choice. I came to you with this offer because I want to love again. I'm not trying to replace him, of course, there is no way it could ever be the same. But you're the first one in a long time that is the kind of person that I could really love. The kind of person that could love both sides of me. I hope that, one day, you loving me is not that far fetched.”

When Scott and Stiles just glared, he placed the objects on the ground.

Stiles said, “How old are you?”

Morgan stopped smiling, but remained cheerful, “One hundred and sixteen... Yeah. I heard about that stuff from your father. Everyone is younger than me. But if I don't try, then I'll be alone for the rest of my life. I don't want that.”

Stiles said, “How many people have you killed?”

Scott growled, “Stop encouraging him, Stiles!”

Morgan said, “There is a reason everyone owes me favors. I do the blood work, and I enjoy it. But that is not all that I am. I want to love again. I want to find someone to protect and to share my life with. I can be those two people. I can be two people very easily.” Morgan's head drooped as his nostrils flared, “I'm sorry for scaring you. Please, consider my offer. I'll be going now.”

He walked down the street. Scott and Stiles watched him go.

Scott was the first to speak, “You have a hundred and sixteen year old that looks in their twenties alpha werewolf assassin courting you.”

Stiles gulped for air, “Mas... Master of the... Obvious, over here. Oh god.”

“I didn't think I would ever be saying this. But Derek is good choice for you. I fully encourage you to crush on Derek.”

“Dammit Scott! Couldn't you tell he was there? Smell him? Hear his heartbeat? I thought you've been training! Is Derek really that shitty of a teacher?”

Scott looked scared, “I couldn't hear him until I was standing here. I couldn't smell him. I still can't smell him.” Scott moved towards the box and the papers and bent close to sniff them, “He touched these but I can barely smell anything. It smells like... blood?”

“... Useful scent... for an assassin.”

Stiles picked up the folder and leafed through it. It was full of copies of pictures and newspaper clippings. The names of the people in the photos varied, but the people themselves were the same. Morgan, usually as a woman, standing next to the same guy over and over. A lot of them were war photographs, clipped from newspapers around the world. World War 2, the Vietnam War, and a dozen other wars that Stiles had never heard about.

The rest of the photos were of simple things. Morgan was a man in those photos. The two of them in a rose garden party along with a dozen other people, but with everyone else's faces cut out of the photo. There was another photo in a tropical setting done up the same way. Then they were holding each other as the Berlin Wall came down. There was one at the original Woodstock.

Scott was looking over Stiles's shoulder, “I don't know what that means.”

“I think he's telling the truth. At least about his previous husband. Maybe he does just want a long and happy life with someone special.”

Stiles opened the box of chocolate before Scott could protest. Everything looked normal enough. Stiles picked one up and squeezed it a little. Scott slapped it out of his hand.

Scott said, “Don't! It could be poison.”

“You're right.”

Stiles dumped the box into the trash while Scott watched.

“What? You think I'm going to sneak one, or something?”

“I don't know. I know I'm scared, but you don't smell scared at all.”

“Yeah. Well. I think I broke my fear reflex when the assassin wolf asked me to marry him. Let's go to the meeting.”

 

Scott put his bike in the back of the jeep. They were at the demolished Hale House before almost everyone else. The foundation was all done up with wood concrete frames. It looked like they were setting to re-pour it soon. As they looked, they saw Derek and Peter sitting by the fire pit.

As Stiles and Scott hopped out of the jeep Jackson's porsche drove in right behind them. Scott got his bike out of the jeep and looked towards Stiles.

Scott said, “Are you sure about this? I don't want anyone getting hurt.”

Stiles smiled at Scott, “ _I'm_ not going to get hurt,” Stiles looked at Jackson through his windshield and yelled, “The only thing getting hurt is Jackson's pride. Who's a big bad wolf, huh huh? Wanna try your hand at taking down little Stiles? I'ma kick your ass, Jackson. Maybe you'll be the one that pisses their pants.”

The first person to move was not Jackson, but Derek, from a hundred yards away. Jackson was a close second as his eyes lit up and he gracefully removed himself from his car.

Derek called out, “What the fuck are you doing, Stiles?”

Scott said, “Jackson wanted to know how Stiles was better than him.”

Stiles said, “Yeah he did. And he's in for a lesson, too.”

Jackson moved forward. Derek placed himself between Jackson and Stiles.

Derek said, “You are not doing this. I am not allowing this to happen.”

Stiles said, “He asked for it. I'm tired of his posturing. I thought he was getting better, but he isn't. So, I'm merely providing an ass-kicking service for the low low price of free.”

Derek glared at Stiles, “Shut up, Stiles.”

Stiles said, “No. I will not shut up. He wanted a fight. He still wants a fight. Do you want us to learn how to fight or not? Shouldn't this be the natural progression of things? Shouldn't Jackson get his ass kicked now so that he knows what it feels like?”

Jackson growled, “How is Stilinski better than me? There is no way he is anything but trash. How could this 150 pound shit be of any use at all when stuff goes down?”

Derek turned, glared at Jackson, and moved away. “Trust isn't going to happen until this is over, is it?”

Stiles said, “Stand back, Scott.”

Scott stepped away seconds before Jackson wolfed out. Blue eyes blazing, his claws flung out as he leapt at Stiles. A small pulse of white enveloped Stiles's skin. Contact sent Jackson flying into a nearby tree and slamming with a loud cracking sound. The tree was fine.

“Holy shit!” Scott said.

Jackson slumped onto the ground. His legs were pointed in the wrong direction. He wasn't moving. Stiles and Derek rushed over.

_Oh god. No. Please let him be okay._

 

Jackson's eyes were still closed ten minutes later. Derek had repositioned his body for better healing but Jackson was still unconscious. In the meantime, Lydia had shown up with Danny. They sat near him while Stiles and Scott were several yards away. Derek stood nearby, watching.

Stiles bit his knuckles as he waited. He was determined not to cry. One or two tears escaped anyway.

_How could I have done this to him? I didn't mean to. Please let him be okay._

When the first groan of pain left Jackson everyone scrambled towards him. A rush of words poured out of almost everyone's mouths.

Stiles said, “Are you okay?”

Danny said, “You hit a tree pretty hard. Stiles broke your back.”

Lydia said, “Give him some space. Can you move your toes, Jackson, honey?”

Jackson moved his feet as he sat upright.

Stiles said, “Good. You're fine. You're good, right? I'm really sorry, man.”

Danny said, “You beat him up worse than I did when we were eight, Stiles.”

Lydia yelled, “You put too much force into it! You could have killed him!”

Everyone waited for Jackson to say something.

Jackson, flexing his legs, said, “I asked for it. Good show... Stiles. You really won't be a liability.”

Stiles said, “Oh my god. I'm sorry, Jackson. I'm so sorry.”

Jackson said, “Stop apologizing.”

Danny held Jackson as he wobbled to his feet. When Jackson arched his back with an accompanying set of loud pops, everyone except Derek cringed.

Jackson waved Danny off, “I got this, Danny. I'm fine, Stiles. Could you have done that if I wasn't a werewolf?”

Stiles said, “Uh. A bit. Yeah. I think so, anyway. Not quite as forcefully, but yes.” Stiles lifted up his shirt and pulled at his belt, “Woven mountain ash belt with silver clasps. Super effective! It also prevents werewolves from taking off your pants.”

Scott cringed, then looked mortified.

Lydia caught Scott's reaction to Stiles's last comment. Her eyes went wide for half a second as she looked at Stiles, then she returned to her normal Lydia-face.

_Am I going to have to explain that to her? I probably should, anyway. She might be perfect to talk to about all of this._

_Or maybe not._

Derek ignored him, “We're going to start adding fighting to the training mix. Stiles, Lydia, it will do you good to join in that, if you're up for it.”

Lydia said, “I plan to fight in my own way. You all can do what you want. I'll be here reading and providing moral support.”

Stiles said, “I'm doing my own thing, too. But I'll run around the property. You know, one of my circuits to twelve of yours'. That sort of thing. I should get better at running. For all of those time I'll be running away. Probably.”

Jackson said, “That really hurt. You're really good at this stuff, aren't you, Stiles?”

Lydia smiled, hugged Jackson, and said, “I told you he was.”

Jackson said, “Ow. Not so tight. Ow. Okay. I think it's getting there. Almost better.”

Stiles smiled, “Are we good? Or do I have to worry about finding my tires slashed?”

Jackson said, “We're cool. I'm not stupid enough to try that again... Have you been worried about a werewolf taking off your pants? Or was that a joke?”

Stiles said, “Um.” Stiles turned towards Derek, “I have a _thing_ I need to talk to everyone about. Where are the other three?”

Derek frowned, then closed his eyes for a second before speaking, “They're on their way.”

 

Twenty minutes later Stiles was standing in front of everyone. He held Morgan's folder against his chest as he mentally prepared to speak. He opened his mouth and closed his mouth several times before Derek got pissed off.

Derek growled, “Speak, Stiles!”

Stiles glared, “I'm not a goddamn dog... Morgan, one of the alphas, came to me with an offer to end this fight before it starts.”

Derek instantly said, “It's a lie. Whatever it is, burn it and walk away.”

Danny said, “You were there when Mark came to me. Why would Morgan be any different?”

Scott said, “He seemed real. But it could be a lie. I couldn't tell.”

Derek growled at Scott, “You knew about this and you didn't tell me? I'm your alpha!”

Scott growled, “Not by choice!”

Lydia yelled over everyone, “Stiles isn't done!”

Everyone stopped talking and looked towards Stiles.

Derek's eyes flashed red as he spoke, “Why do you believe him? What is the offer?”

Stiles's mouth felt dry, “He... wants me. In exchange for me, he has the influence to get the alpha pack out of here.”

Derek looked hurt, “Wh... Why does he want you?”

Stiles distributed the contents of the folder as he spoke, “I don't know if this is true. Danny? Can you check to see if these photos are real, afterward?”

Danny looked at one of the wartime photos with a woman and a man, “Yes. I will.”

Stiles said, “You might as well just know everything at this point.” Stiles closed his eyes and just let it out, “I'm bi. Morgan can shapeshift from a man into a woman and back and he is a hundred and sixteen years old. His husband died twenty years ago. They were married for sixty seven years before that. These photos are from their life together. The offer is my future in exchange for your lives.”

Peter was the first to break the contemplative silence, “As it stands, a fight has the possibility that they don't get any of what they want. This way, they willing get what could one day be a very powerful piece. It's a good move on their part. If these pictures are real, you two might even have a happy life together.”

Everyone looked at their photos except Lydia. Lydia silently stared at Stiles.

Lydia said, “You're not telling us something. What is it?”

Stiles went silent. Scott started fidgeting.

Scott said, “Morgan is an assassin. I couldn't smell him or hear him until he was right in front of me.”

Stiles said, “I would have gone with, 'he wants to date me to make sure we're a good fit,' or, 'he thinks I'm the kind of person that could love both of him.' But the assassin thing is good, too. That needed to come out, too.”

Everyone started talking at once.

 

Ten minutes later, Derek's voice roared above the rest.

Derek said to Peter, “Do you know anything about Morgan?”

Peter said, “I don't know much of the alpha pack beyond rumor and their well established protocol. We never had anything unusual in our pack that would warrant their attention. No killers. No kanima. No wizards. These pictures do make sense, though. Most of them are wartime photos. I would not be surprised that the alpha pack used the cover of war to pick apart other packs. Since there hasn't been a war in the US, it would explain why they haven't been seen on US soil in a long time. Someone outside of the US might know more.”

Lydia said, “The Argents would probably know more.”

Scott said, “It doesn't matter who knows anything. Stiles shouldn't go! No one is really thinking this is a good idea, are they?”

Stiles said, “I love you, man. But, I don't want you guys to be hurt if I can prevent it by leaving.”

Derek growled, “You're not going anywhere.”

Stiles ignored Derek, “So how are we going to approach the Argents about this?”

Lydia said, “Before we go to them, we should consider how the alpha pack even knew what was going on in our little town. How they made up their minds to come here, in the first place. How they pick their targets.”

Scott said, “What does that even matter? They're here now.”

Lydia smiled, “Unless Peter is giving them insider knowledge of us, then the only other way this stuff could have gotten out is through the Hunters.” Lydia turned towards Peter, “Are you on our side, or theirs, Uncle Peter?”

It came out so derogatorily that Stiles forgot all about his current issues in light of what could be a much bigger problem. Stiles leaving wouldn't solve anything if Peter did his sudden-but-inevitable-betrayal right afterward. The entire rest of the pack got the implication, too. Most of them went still. Jackson growled.

Peter smirked and said, “Why Lydia. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have your claws out. You really should get over what I did to you. It colors your outlook into seeing monsters where there is nothing but pack.”

Lydia said, “Deflection, is it? Why don't you answer the question and we can move onto the appropriate action.”

Derek said, “Answer it. Peter.”

Peter said, “I have not communicated with them. I have not gone to them and they have not come to me. I have not written letters or exchanged emails. The Hunter network is wide and varied with many chances for information to leak out. But I doubt that even matters considering who is the most likely candidate for bringing the alpha pack here.”

Derek asked, “Who?”

Peter continued, “It's been less than ten days since the alpha pack marked us, but it has been twenty or so since Gerard's body was never found. I don't know if a former Argent would ever venture so far from their own values as to work with the alpha pack, but if there was one Argent that would, it would be Gerard. Whatever he became though the Bite and mountain ash poison in his system, if he is still alive, this coming full moon will be his first. Even with all of his knowledge as a hunter, he should still be forced to shift. Since Derek bit him he might be able to track him. Why don't we try asking him questions before we go accusing members of our own pack of treason?”

Lydia said, “You're very good at deflecting. But you might be right. So we approach the Argents asking for information about the validity of Morgan's offer, knowing full well they could be the ones that brought the alpha pack here.”

Scott said, “This offer doesn't mean anything. We're not going to let Stiles take it, are we?”

Scott looked around. Stiles and Derek were the only ones that looked Scott in the eyes. Everyone else looked away.

Scott said, “...Are we?...”

 

Four hours later, after confirming that everyone valued their lives more than his future, which, of course, they should, Stiles was back in his room with his head buried into his pillow. He knew in his gut that going with Morgan was the right plan. Everyone else just confirmed what Stiles already knew was the best choice.

But being the right choice didn't mean that it didn't hurt like hell.

_Obviously everyone thinks I should sacrifice myself for them. It's not like Morgan is asking for my head. He wants to give me a good life. One where I reciprocate his love._

If those photos came back as undoctored, and the Argents had any sort of confirmation that Morgan was the real deal, then Stiles would say yes. Yes to the dates with a murderer, yes to the release of his pack, yes to a life outside of his own control.

Stiles laugh-cried into his pillow.

“At least I'll get to date someone who seems to want me. That's always a good thing. But...”

… _He kills people and he likes it. He smells like blood._

“Scott was right. This would be easier if I was with Derek. It would be easier if Derek wanted me.”

Five minutes later, Stiles's phone lit up with a text message from Derek.

'I want to talk about everything.'

Exasperated, Stiles flipped around to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling.

Stiles spoke to the air above him, “Derek... Are you outside right now?”

Another text from Derek, 'Yes. Are you going to invite me in?'

Stiles gradually lifted himself out of bed and walked over to the window. Derek was on the other side. Stiles paused in the middle of opening the latch. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to deal with Derek's bullshit again.

“Are you going to tell me to be strong and do it for the pack?”

Derek said through the glass, “No.”

Stiles opened the window. Derek slid inside.

“I'm not letting them take you away.”

“God. I dealt with Scott for an hour already. I finally got him to leave half an hour ago and now you show up? You two wouldn't know what was good for you if it bit you on the ass. I haven't even told my dad yet. At least he won't complain because he'll just up and die of a heart attack. Why are you here, Derek? What more is there to say?”

“You're a part of my pack. I'm not letting you go.”

Stiles stared, open mouthed and incredulous, “I'm a voluntary part of your pack. You have no hold over me. Unless you have a secret weapon you're not talking about, you might as well hop right back out that window. I have no fucks left to give for your alpha bullshit.”

Derek cringed, frowned, and looked back up at Stiles.

“I... I want you to stay.”

“Why? There is no possible reason you can give me that will let me believe that you have everyone's interests at heart when you say shit like that.”

“Of course I don't have everyone's interests at heart. But I don't want to lose you when I finally see how great of a person you are.”

Stiles paused, “...You hate me.”

“I don't hate you, you idiot.”

“Then what? What is this happening right now?”

“This is me saying I want to get to know you better. This is me saying we have time to train and get stronger. This is me saying we can win, if we're together.”

Derek walked forward into Stiles's space. Stiles didn't move backwards.

“This is me telling you to tell me if you want me to stop.”

Derek moved one hand to Stiles's back and pulled them together. Stiles's brain melted when Derek's mouth sucked at his neck. Derek moved upward with small bites. The stubble tickled but the heat of Derek's open mouth felt good against Stiles's own.

His tongue. Oh god, his tongue.

And then, Stiles's teenage hormones redirected all of his thoughts for the evening.

Off came Stiles's belt and shirt. They joined Derek's shirt already on the floor. Stiles's hands grabbed Derek's chest as Derek wrapped his hand down Stiles's back and into his pants.

Stiles said, “I was not expecting this.”

Derek said, “I wanted to wait until you were 18.”

“That can't be your real reason for not wanting to be with me.”

“...I. Partially, it is. I don't deserve you, Stiles. You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart. But I'm a selfish asshole, so I hope you're okay with my broken one.”

“...I'm so glad you didn't wait till I was 18. I might be dead in five months.”

They wrapped themselves in their arms and looked into each others' eyes. They were almost the same height.

Stiles smiled, “Can you shift into a girl though? Cause I'd like to do more than bottom. Not that it wouldn't be awesome. Just sayin'.”

“You can top whenever you want.”

Stiles ran his hands down the back of Derek's pants and grabbed.

“Oh my god. You're not wearing underwear. You have the best ass. Is there a single part of you that isn't rock solid?”

“You tell me.”

Derek pushed his groin harder against Stiles's. They ended up against a wall with their mouths locked together, their cocks grinding through the fabric of thier pants. Stiles moved his hands to Derek's front and rubbed against the long bulge leaking down Derek's leg. Stiles pushed Derek back and knelt down. Derek smiled as Stiles carefully undid the button. As the zipper came down Stiles exposed the wrist thick base of Derek's monster. Two huge balls made Stiles wonder how they would feel as they slapped against his ass.

“Oh my god. Oh my...”

Stiles went silent as he pulled down Derek's pants, slowly exposing the pulsing length of the biggest cock he had ever seen. Eventually the head came out. It swung up to slap against his abs before pointing directly at Stiles. Stiles wasted no time. He ran his hands up and down the length, pulling drops of precome from the head and licking the sweetness.

If Derek had been a different kind of person he could definitely do well fucking on camera. He had the equipment for it.

“Dude. You are fucking awesome. Have you been eating the pineapple at the cookouts?”

Derek smiled, kicked off his pants, and dragged Stiles to the bed. Stiles's own cock was painfully erect and begging to get out. Stiles rushed to get his own pants off as he sat there watching Derek watch him.

“I hope this isn't some dream. I'm going to be really pissed if this is a dream.”

Derek knelt at the edge of the bed and helped pulled Stiles's pants all the way off. Derek pulled Stiles closer to the edge and grabbed Stiles's cock with both hands. It wasn't small, Stiles had measured it and looked up penis size surveys to make sure. But Derek's was ridiculous.

Stiles smiled, “Thanks for using two hands. You're making me feel less inadequate.”

Derek responded by licking and sucking on the head. With one hand on Stiles's chest, the other wrapped around Stiles's balls as Derek bobbed on the head. Stiles ran a hand through Derek's hair. Derek growl-purred and went all the way down. He stayed there sucking and deepthroating for less than three seconds before Stiles came.

“Holy fucking fuck. Oh. God.”

Derek swallowed it all as Stiles wrapped his hands in Derek's hair. Derek seemed to really like that, so Stiles did more of it than he would have otherwise. Derek licked Stiles's cock clean. Stiles toes and arms flailed as Derek's mouth danced on the head.

“Too much!”

Derek laughed as he stood up. His cock was still hard and leaking everywhere. Derek grabbed his own cock and pulled. Several drops of precome dripped onto Stiles's legs.

Derek said,“Care to try?”

Stiles attacked Derek's cock with his tongue, both hands, and mouth. He gagged as Derek tried to push into his throat. While he worked Derek's cock, his own began to harden. When he gagged the second time, Derek pulled him up and pushed him onto the bed.

Derek climbed onto Stiles ground their bodies and cocks together as he pushed his tongue into Stiles's mouth. Within seconds, Stiles came again. In a minute, he was hard again.

Derek grabbed both of their cocks and jerked. Stiles came a second before Derek, his come hitting Derek in the abs and falling back down to his own body. When Derek came, it was a stream that pulsed a dozen times and splattered all over Stiles's stomach and chest. Derek collapsed onto Stiles and ground the mess of their sex together.

They flipped over. Stiles straddled Derek's waist as they kissed.

Derek said, “I've been wanting to do that for weeks. I never thought it would actually happen. And this soon, too.”

Stiles said, “Months, over here. Ever since you slammed me against that wall. Tuesday wasn't enough for me.”

Derek looked hurt, “I'm sorry about that. I should have kept control. I could have hurt you.”

Stiles laid down on top of Derek and said, “It was my fault. Don't blame yourself. I should have known they would have put alphabane in the pot.”

“I should have had more control.”

Derek growl-purred when Stiles ran his hands through Derek's hair. Yeah. Derek loved that.

Stiles said, “It happened. Can we please forget who's fault it was?”

Derek nuzzled against Stiles's face. Stiles could feel heat radiating at his ass a second before Derek's cock slapped against it. His own cock responded by poking into Derek's hips.

Stiles said, “I'm going to need to practice with like, a large cucumber, aren't I? I threw out the dildo.”

Derek smiled, “Yes.”

“At least I don't have to buy condoms. I'm pretty sure my dad has all those sellers under watch. He might even be checking the trash.”

“Your father wouldn't be checking the trash... Would he?”

Stiles laughed. Derek looked concerned.

“Stiles. Would he?”

“God! No. Probably not.”

 

There was a repeat performance in the shower and once, more carefully so they didn't leave a spot, on the cleaned bed.

 

Stiles spent the rest of the night wrapped up and cuddled by Derek. It was the best feeling Stiles had ever had. Stiles was pretty sure that it was one of the better feelings for Derek, too.

Derek left with a kiss at 6:30. Well before Jed was supposed to get in.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, they did it!
> 
> But there is still a lot more to come.
> 
> (haha, puns.)


	14. Derek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek gets a heads-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of explicit Sterek.

Derek stalked through the shadows towards his camaro. As he rounded the bend he saw his car, and a police vehicle parked behind it. Jed was in the cruiser, waiting with the lights off. He looked to be doing paperwork.

Derek stepped backward.

Then, he stepped forward. His face was set in a stoney frown as he moved towards the Sheriff's cruiser. He got ten yards from the vehicle before Jed noticed him. With a subdued motion, Jed opened his car door and stepped out into the stale night.

Derek said, “Sheriff Stilinski. I'm surprised to see you here. No one lives on this street.”

Jed said, “The people living one street over noticed a strange vehicle parked here at strange hours this past week. I was hoping that this was just another kid making just another late night booty call with their significant other, and I could let them go with a stern lecture about making sure they use protection. But then I ran your plates. Laura Hale came up as the last owner.”

Derek's stoney expression didn't shift, “What do you want?”

“I'm explaining my thought process. If you want me to circumvent what I went through over the last hour, I'll just haul your ass in right now for fucking my teenage son. So I suggest you shut the hell up and wait.”

Derek stayed silent.

“Good.” Jed said, “My first instinct was to tow your car away and have it accidentally end up as a cube in the dump. My second was to wait for you and see what you have to say for yourself. And then I realized it might not be you, but Peter. I'm glad to see it wasn't Peter, but you're not much better.”

Jed paused, watched for Derek's reaction, and continued when Derek's expression didn't change, “I know my son is not like the other boys his age. I've know this longer than he has. Not only did he grew up awful fast when his mother spent a year dying. He's also damn smart. Smart enough and stubborn enough, that even in the midst of all this shit that's going on, that he will try to make the best choices he knows how to make. Him kidnapping Jackson Whittemore nearly changed my opinion of him, but now it all makes sense. He's still the kid I always knew he was. I didn't raise a delinquent.” Jed paused, “If you hurt him, I will do whatever it takes to see you locked up. Believe me, at this point, it won't take much.”

Derek walked towards his car, “Is that all?”

Jed said, “There will be no PDAs until he is 18. You will convince him to learn how to fight. And you're coming to dinner, Sunday. We're firing up the grill and you're cooking steak.”

Derek smiled for half an instant, “Yes, Sir.”

He got into his car and drove off. Jed's cruiser vanished in the rear-view mirrors.

_This has to be a dream. These events are lining up too perfectly. Everything is going too well. When is the other shoe going to drop? Am I going to show up on Sunday only to be shot in the head with a wolfsbane bullet? Morgan had to be listening to this whole thing. If not him, then whoever it is that listens to these things. He'll try to do something to fuck this up for me._

_None of the alphas have visited me. Will Morgan be waiting for me at the house?_

_Am I rebuilding the house only to watch it burn again in four months, with all of us trapped inside?_

_No. I'm not going to let that happen._

Derek's eyes flared red.

_We will get stronger. We will get better. We will be ready._

_They'll die when they come for us._

_You're mine, Stiles. You're not Morgan's. He will never take you away from me, from the pack. The pack will change their minds. We're all going to stand together. Strong. United._

_Should I buy you something to help you loosen up? I probably could._

_Oh god. Dinner with the Sheriff on Sunday._

 

Derek arrived at the house just as the sun was coming up. Everything seemed a bit brighter. A bit better. A bit less thin-tree and dead-leaves everywhere, and a bit more like a seed beginning to sprout. New and bright green at first, with the promise of strong roots and tall branches later.

Short bright red hair near the fire pit caught Derek's attention. Morgan was sitting in a chair, staring at him. Derek's eyes flared red as Morgan's did the same. Fangs and claws flashed out in the early dawn light.

Morgan stood up and walked towards Derek. Barefoot and wearing shorts and a t-shirt, he made no sound as he stepped between the fallen leaves. His eyes burned like lava, his growl shook the trees. It would have caused an instinctual reaction in anyone besides another alpha. Derek roared back.

They circled each other, neither of them making the first move to attack.

Morgan was the first to speak, “You're a sad, broken man, Derek Hale. You will hurt him. You will hurt him so bad that he will break into a thousand pieces. He will end up like you did when Kate Argent touched your life.”

Derek growled, “He is mine. I am his. You can never have him.”

“Would you like to know what my anchor is? My anchor is love. Real love. I would never hurt him. I would cherish him in ways you can't even imagine. No one would ever hurt him. _Ever_. Anger is not a healthy base for a relationship, Derek Hale. Anger is not the way to raise a pack. You're a sad shell of a burned out child that will forever cause the deaths of those you love. Do everyone a favor and kill yourself, before you end up killing them.”

“Stiles could never love someone like you.”

Morgan laughed, “In my day, people married because it was the best way to survive. Love came afterward. Idiosyncrasies became endearing. You learned to love what your partner loved because it was your partner's joy. Both parties rid themselves of irreconcilable problems. You children today are raised on fairy tales and it has rotted your brains out.”

“Stiles could never love a killer.”

Morgan smiled, “People are very malleable. Especially when they're as young as Stiles. I would have him stabbing a man through the heart and enjoying it within the year. And if he didn't? Then he would never have to do it ever again. But he wouldn't hate me for it, and I wouldn't hate him.”

Derek growled, “Are we starting this now, or are you just talking?”

“If you don't give him up before the games, we will rip apart your pack and everyone it has touched. Scott's mother, Jackson's parents, Erica's father. The parents of your pack will die knowing their children killed them. Your infant pack will know exactly what siding with you will cost before we get to them. We will burn this town to the ground.”

“You might try, but you won't succeed.”

Morgan laughed again, his eyes lost their red light, “I can't even remember how many times I've heard that.” Morgan cocked his head for a second and continued talking, “I've just been informed that you were the 15th person to use that exact same line since world war two. But the 96th to use it, if you allow for language variation.”

“Has anyone ever won against you?”

“No.”

Derek grinned, “Has anyone ever had hunters, wizards, and pieces of a pack you weren't willing to kill? I can name at least three members of this pack that you're interested in having alive.”

Morgan flashed red and shifted into a woman. Her large red claws clicked as she smiled a brilliant white-fanged smile. Her red eyes mimicked the light from the dawn sun.

She said, “From what we've seen, you aren't there yet. Not by a long shot. I'll be bored if you can't stand by your claims of power. When I'm bored, people die very fast. Snip snip snip, off come the heads.”

She casually walked away, carving hunks from trees with flicks of her hands. Derek couldn't hear her footsteps as she walked away, he couldn't hear her heartbeat past twenty yards. When she walked out of sight, her exact position became unknown. The only thing that let Derek know where she was were the broken and falling trees. Soon, those stopped. Morgan might have gone back to wherever the alpha pack was staying. She might be right around the corner looking at him.

Derek tried not to let it bother him. He changed into a pair of shorts and cleared the road of fallen trees, then he jogged around the property until 8:00. The cement guys were going to show up at 8:30, so Derek took a dip in the nearby swimming hole and then went back to the house. Soon enough, the sound of a large cement truck came echoing up the road to the hale house.

 

The sounds of Stiles's jeep came rolling up the road at around 4:00 in the afternoon. The cement guys had gone half an hour earlier. At that particular moment, Derek was relaxing on a towel by the fire pit, imagining how the house used to look and how it would be when it was finished. At the sound of that rumbling engine, Derek's cock got hard and he lost his train of thought. He laughed to himself, sat up, and walked towards the front of the house.

Stiles was alone. Derek smelled the air. He smelled clean. It wasn't a bad smell, but it wasn't Stiles. It was a bit too much like soap and bodywash and not enough of that electric ozone that was completely Stiles. But beneath the soap, there was the clear scent of arousal.

Derek thought of a few ways to get Stiles smelling like himself. Derek smiled a little wider, let his eyes tint red, and was well aware of how he looked wearing running shorts and no shirt.

Derek said, “Hey.”

Stiles stuttered, “Uh, Hey yourself. Hot stuff. Wow. I'm not that easy. Okay, maybe I am. You look like that on purpose, don't you?”

“You're here early.”

Derek moved towards Stiles and pulled him close. Their mouths connected as Derek's hands wrapped around Stiles's ass. He held them together, their crotches pressed against one another.

Stiles broke away to speak, “Oh god. You're intense. You smell so good, too.”

“And you're handsome, but smell like soap.”

“What's wrong with soap? Nevermind. I can't stay tonight. I have a lesson with Alan. I take is no one else is here? Or do you just like to put on a show?”

A flash of concentration gave away everyone's locations. Peter was at the other den. The others were where they usually were, or well inside their usual stomping grounds. Derek resumed concentrating on Stiles.

“If you can't stay, there must be a reason you're here all alone. Want a blow job? Maybe you played with a toy in the shower and want a quickie before your meeting? Hmm?”

Derek sucked on Stiles's neck while Stiles struggled to answer. Stiles just garbled incoherent syllables. There might have been a 'please, blow me,' in all of that. Derek tried to slide a hand into Stiles's pants but a spark of white zapped his hand and flung him away to land on his ass.

“Ouch, fuck.”

Stiles said, “Oh my god. Sorry. I forgot.”

Derek licked his fingers, “That's okay. No harm done.”

Stiles dropped his own pants as Derek moved forward on his knees. Derek grabbed Stiles by his ass and teased Stiles's hole with one hand as he playfully licked and pulled on Stiles's cock. Stiles bucked into Derek's mouth and Derek took him all the way down. He held there, one finger proding up Stiles's ass while Stiles ran his fingers through Derek's hair. That same wonderful sensation struck again and he was growl-purring, his throat vibrating, as Stiles's cock started pulsing in under thirty seconds.

“Oh god, yes. Oh, yes!”

Derek swallowed the remnants of Stiles's orgasm and pulled away. Derek stood up. Now, it was Stiles's turn.

“Don't drench me this time. These are the only clothes I brought.”

Derek smirked, “Better swallow it all, then. Watch the teeth.”

Stiles hummed as he knelt. He pulled down Derek's shorts and did the best he could. He managed to keep Derek's cock in his mouth without gagging, which was an improvement. He sucked on Derek's nuts, and then went back to the head. It wasn't very good, but it was Stiles, and that mattered more than quality. After ten minutes of struggling with teeth and inexperience, Derek was finally there.

“It's coming. Take it, Stiles.”

Derek's cock pulsed. Stiles's mouth overflowed but he did manage to swallow some of it. Stiles was nothing if not tenacious.

Once Stiles's clothes were back on they moved towards the house. They looked over the fresh concrete from the front right corner of the house.

Stiles said, “You have a plan already? Of course you have a plan already. But you haven't shown the blueprints to anyone. Have you? What is it going to look like when it's done?”

Derek said, “Not exactly like the original. Close, though. Two stories, an attic, and a basement. Five master bedrooms and bathrooms on the second floor, living spaces and two more bedrooms on the ground floor. Eight extra rooms for whatever. A giant kitchen and dining room. ”

Stiles said, “How big is this pack going to get?”

Derek grinned, “As big as it wants to.”

“Where are you getting all of this money from?”

“Hale secret fortunes. Giant stacks of gold a hundred bars by a hundred bars by a hundred bars big.”

“... You're lying.”

“Yes. I am. Jackson is donating a few funds, and has already called the bedroom on the far north side. Other than that, I'm going to be looking for a job soon.”

“You're not allowed to be in porn. I don't think I could handle the jealousy.”

Derek smiled, “And I was planing on that, too.”

“You'd be an international star in under a week.”

Derek pulled Stiles in for a kiss. As they explored each other's mouths, Derek knew that they could taste thier own sex on each other's tongues. It was a wonderful feeling. Derek pulled away wearing a smile on his face. Stiles got the cutest look of denied desire to accompany the boner in his pants.

Derek said, “When's your meeting?”

Stiles looked at his phone, “Uh, in forty five minutes. I was going to stop for dinner somewhere, want to come?”

“Yeah. I can eat.”

“Where do you want to go? I has to be fast. I don't want to be late.”

“Anywhere you want to go. I'll follow you in my car.”

Stiles looked Derek over, like he was trying to figure something out.

Stiles said, “We're dating now, right? That's what this is, isn't it? I'm not going to find out I'm just one of your pack sex-mates, am I?”

“...What have you been reading? But yes, we're dating now. You're mine and I'm yours until further notice. One on one.”

“I was researching wolf mating habits. Apparently, the alpha gets to fuck all of the betas. Males have knots that expand to lock them together as the male keeps coming. I've seen your cock, and you come a whole lot more than normal. You don't have a knot, do you? I'm not missing something obvious, am I?”

Derek laughed. “You're terrible, Stiles.”

“You didn't answer the question.”

Derek laughed again.

Stiles said, “Want to go to a drive-in movie tomorrow and ignore whatever's playing?”

“Yeah, but your father said no PDAs until you're 18.”

Stiles's heart went erratic, “... You're joking. You did not tell my father. Tell me you did not tell my father.”

Derek smiled and pulled Stiles close.

“I didn't have to tell him anything. He cornered me at my car. After threatening to turn it into a cube and haul me off to jail, he told me no PDAs until you're 18. And that I'm coming over to grill dinner this Sunday.”

“Oh my god... He knew! He knew! How did he know? That's why he had that shit-eating grin at breakfast... He asked me if I had a girlfriend and I said no. Then he laughed.”

Derek smiled, “He was somewhat relieved that it was me. He was ready for it to be Peter.”

Stiles pushed away, “I'm going to vomit.”

Derek stood back. Stiles dry-heaved a few times, then stood back up.

 

Derek had on his best dirty working clothes and his best anger-frown as they waited in line at the local bakery-deli. When they sat down with their food, Stiles looked, once again, quizzical.

Stiles said, “You sure can put on a frown, there. How are you doing under all that anger?”

Derek said, “That lady slicing the meat knows you're the sheriff's son. She's talking to the cashier about it.”

Stiles glanced over, and whispered to Derek, “What is she saying?”

“...'Are they dating? How did that scrawny kid land that hunk of a man'...”

Derek adjusted himself uncomfortably, he didn't want to repeat everything the women were saying. Stiles looked over towards the ladies staring at them. He nodded and ran his leg against Derek's. Derek cringed and moved his leg away. 

“Stiles...”

“What? I've got a super-hot boyfriend. I can't help it.”

“I would like to not be arrested again. It wasn't a pleasant experience. Did the rest of the pack say anything to you today?”

“They said: 'We're super sorry! We didn't take the time to think about it. Of course you're not going anywhere with a murderer.' I didn't expect Jackson to be so on-board with me staying, or so ready to accept what that actually means. He's been weirding me out all day with his constant niceness. They all said other things too, but you know, it was this Great Big Conversation. I think you're all idiots, but you're my idiots. So I guess I'll stick around.”

At that, Derek broke his frown for a small smile.

Stiles said, “Ah ha! The big bad wolf _can_ smile in public without breaking his face. By the end of this month, you'll be smiling all the time.”

Derek instantly frowned. But it wouldn't stay. Hints of a grin lurked beneath the surface.

Dinner was over. Stiles and Derek walked out of the store and went their separate ways.

 

_He was so frustrating when we weren't together, but now, everything is looking better and better each passing moment. If he keeps this up, I'll need to find a different anchor. Can I finally put the past behind me? I can't even feel that same anger anymore. It's there, but it's less than it used to be._

Derek's claws flicked out as he drove. He didn't need to look into the mirror to see his eyes had shifted.

_Morgan is right about one thing. Love is a much better anchor than anger. You can raise a pack on love. Anger just drives everyone away. Scott must be having issues now that Allison won't even talk to him. Isaac still won't talk to me without Scott there. Erica and Boyd were basically gone until the alpha pack shoved them back. Jackson is better. Danny is great. Everything is coming together. It's getting better._

_Things are going to get better._

_Who am I kidding? I'll find a way to fuck this up. Stiles will hate me by next week._

Derek's alpha-eyes dissipated as his claws retracted.  


	15. Lydia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia has a lesson with Ms. Morrell.

Lydia did not know how the evening was going to go when she showed up at Monica Morrell's house at 7:00. It was a feeling that Lydia hated with a passion. It was a feeling that she was trying to get away from ever since that instant that werewolves and magic became a part of her life.

It was a feeling that she hurled her life against. Instead of spending her efforts on returning to her top spot in the social hierarchy of the school, which she now clearly saw as a complete and total waste of time, she focused on this other half of existence that she knew nothing about.

After she translated, memorized, and reorganized the Argent's bestiary, and then connected the dots to a hundred different legends and myths from around the globe, she hit a wall. She was sure there was more to all this monster and magic stuff, but it's not like there were peer-reviewed journals on the supernatural.

There might have been journals somewhere, but Lydia did not know where to look to find them. Days spent searching the web probably put her on a government watch list. This stuff was real, after all. There probably was an X-Files-ish branch of some governmental body out there. There was no way she was not on a watch list by now.

But since no one had come to pick her up, and she had gotten no strange emails, that the theory of a magic-tracking governmental body might be incorrect.

_Unless, I already am being watched. By Monica. Which I am, of course. But I hadn't considered her motives for teaching me until just now. She doesn't seem as concerned about the alpha pack as we are..._

_But still... I'm going to know all there is to know. Hopefully, I learn enough by the time she decides I'm too dangerous._

Lydia hoped that Monica would want to talk about anything and everything that Lydia desired to discuss. Hopefully Monica had answers for all these strange new questions Lydia had formed over the past few weeks.

She wanted to discuss her theory that a demon was somehow a soul turned dark and still able to keep itself together without a body of its own. Were heaven and hell real, or were they merely fabrications imprinted on the sub-or-super-structure of existence? Was the whole of this life and physical substance around them a single facet of a multidimensional _something_ crossing this layer of reality?

That second one was a supernatural bastardization of another theory that popped up in science journals a while ago. That theory was once again interesting now that Lydia now knew that magic was real.

 _What else could be real? Can anything be real? Does just knowing, like,_ really knowing _, make it true? No, it cannot possibly be that simple, can it?_

As Lydia pushed the button on the doorbell, she had that same little feeling in her chest that made her want to do a little dance every time she learned something new. Everything is beautiful. Everything is wonderful.

_Now, how do I control it?_

She put her best face forward and hoped that they would talk about substantial things, and not about how to make a stupid ash barrier.

 

Monica opened the door. She was dressed in that normal sort of guidance counselor attire that she always wore around school. She also had that normal sort of guidance counselor pleasant grin that was constructed to put people at ease.

Monica said, “This is the first lesson for tonight.”

She walked away, leaving the door open and Lydia standing in the twilight air. Monica vanished around a corner.

Lydia said, “Uh...”

_What? Does she not want me here?_

Lydia took a step forward only to have her foot to end up short of walking in the house. She was not off balance, that was the first thing Lydia thought upon. She just didn't move her foot as far as it took to make it inside the door. Lydia furrowed her brow, and tried again to step inside the house.

Lydia remained firmly outside.

Monica appeared beyond the hallway and glanced at her once, before moving back out of sight. Two minutes later Lydia was still pacing around on the porch. She tried to cross into the house a dozen times, each time coming up short.

_She doesn't not want me here, does she? She's in this fight too, isn't she? But she never said to come in. What the fuck? I'm not a vampire or some shit._

_I know she wants me in there. She practically mocked me with that glance._

Lydia glared at the door, and walked through.

“Ha!”

Lydia closed the door and walked into the house. Beyond the foyer, the hallway, and the living room, was a sun room. Monica sat in the glass room at a table built for two. She was reading a thin book and drinking coffee.

Monica said, “There's a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen. Creamers are in the fridge.”

Lydia thought for a moment, “Is this the first lesson again? Because you didn't actually say 'if you want any coffee there is a fresh pot available. Have a cup.' Am I supposed to decipher what you're saying and choose the meaning that I want?”

“Yes.”

Lydia went and got herself a cup of coffee. When she came back into the sun room with Monica, Monica's book was put away. Lydia sat down and looked around. It was a standard sun room with a tile floor, glass walls and ceiling, and a few pots full of damp dirt for plants here and there. A bit spartan, but probably a nice place to read a book when you wanted to be in nature and still have the comfort of air conditioning. The sun was nearly set. Everything outside was layered in the first moments of night.

Lydia said, “Nice room.”

Monica said, “What have you figured out about me?”

Lydia tried not to grin, “I don't even know how old you are, so anything I theorize is going to be flawed simply because I have no way to gauge where you are in your life.”

Monica put on her work face, “You don't think I'm in my late twenties, or early thirties?”

“I found out that werewolves can be a hundred and sixteen and still look in their twenties. They can shift sexes, too, apparently. So no. I do not think you're 30-ish. If you are, I will be pleasantly surprised.”

“Surely you can still have some notion of who I am.”

“You took your current job because you knew something was going to go down in this town. It was the best way for you to distinguish the problem children from the rest and you already had the required skill-set to do it well. You and Alan have known each other for a while. At this point, I wonder why I didn't look up the records for his practice, then I could have a clue as to how long he as been in town, if not his age.”

Monica said, “He has been at his current practice for about fifteen years, now.”

“I'd guess he was in his early forties, but I'd probably be wrong there, too.”

“I'm 31. Alan is 43. We haven't used our abilities to alter our age. That is a much harder thing to do without taking the Bite. Those that have tried to remain young, usually fail in the most grotesque ways possible. I was here many years ago and have worked with Alan before, so I was picked to come here and solve whatever situation was going to arise.”

“Picked by whom? How did you know there was going to be a situation?”

Monica sipped her coffee and remained silent.

Lydia said, “Can't, or won't, answer?”

Monica said, “Won't.”

“Fine. Is the alpha pack the situation you were sent to solve?”

“It might be. It warrants my direct involvement, simply because they know that I'm here. If I wasn't teaching you, then they would find some other, possibly more bloody, way to have me in the battle.”

Lydia paused, wondering if she should ask this next question.

She asked it anyway, “One of them, calling himself Morgan, offered an exchange to call off this fight. Stiles Stilinski's hand in exchange for everyone's lives. Do you know of a sex-shifting hundred and sixteen year old assassin werewolf? 'Cause that's who Morgan claims to be.”

Monica paused, “... Red Shadow is his codename. His husband was killed by one of our members twenty years ago. From what Alan has said to me, Stiles is a very similar type of person. Why didn't your pack take the offer?”

“Because Stiles is in reciprocal lust with Derek Hale. Our Alpha made the decision to reject the offer.”

“...Why else, Lydia?”

“... I did not want to give you a chance to stop teaching me. So I convinced everyone else to agree that Stiles staying was the best choice.”

Monica frowned, “You might have killed us all with that choice. In search for that next scrap of information, you have put everyone in direct danger. This offer from Morgan is quite real. There is precedent to validate his claim that he can call off the attack. They've done it before, for other exceptional reasons.”

Lydia said, “Stiles deserves real happiness. I don't know if Derek can be that for him mainly because Derek is an emotionally stunted man-child, but I do know that Morgan would never be the right choice. An assassin for Stiles? Please. He is too soft for that kind of life. It would change him into something that he wouldn't want to be. I don't want that on my conscious.”

Monica frowned, “Do not claim to have other people's hearts on your mind.”

Lydia grinned, she knew she was about to win. Monica probably knew it too.

Lydia said, “It's about an 80/20 split between me and them. But if I can work it to make everyone and myself better off, I am going to take that chance. Morgan getting Stiles means I get nothing, and that is not a viable option right now.”

Monica took a sip of her coffee. There might have been a grin in there, Lydia wasn't exactly sure.

Monica said, “All true.” She paused, “... Have any burning questions for tonight, or would you rather learn a magic trick?”

Lydia surprised herself when she said, “A spell.”

Monica set down her coffee, and said, “I prepared for it, but truthfully did not expect you to chose that option. I am well aware of your ability to manipulate people, but did you know you can use that same sort of persona to manipulate other things as well?”

Monica stood up and grabbed a packet of seeds sitting on a nearby shelf. She went over to a dirt-filled pot, knelt down in front of it, and poked a seed into the soil. As her hands hovered over the damp soil, Lydia couldn't see anything. But when Monica moved her hands away, a small green stem and leaf were poking from the soil.

Monica said, “Stiles is suited towards channeling through objects with well known metaphysical properties, hence his ability with the barrier. You, like me, are more suited to coaxing things to happen. Shifting events around. Making specific things occur while denying others the chance. Most of our kinds of magic work best when events are already heading in a certain direction. They just need a guiding hand every now and again to make things come out right.”

Three hours and another pot of coffee later, Monica was pulling roses from the soil. Every time Lydia complained that a law of thermodynamics was being violated, or the speed of growth should have been causing cancers, Monica pulled a differently colored rose from the soil. Sometime around Monica's twelfth rose, which was a perfect plaid in black, white, and gold, Lydia felt something inside of herself crack.

At her touch, a sickly black rose sprouted up from the dirt.

Monica said, “Guide the growth. Make it become what it wants to become. Deny issues from escalating while increasing the chances of prosperity.”

An hour and a dozen sickly roses later, Lydia pulled a brilliant blue rose from the soil. It shimmered in the full-spectrum lights of the sun room.

Monica smiled, “Plants are one thing, people are entirely different. Don't ever try this on people. You have more than enough skill with people that you don't need magic.”

Done for the night, they sat down at the small table and each had a slice of lemon meringue pie and another cup of coffee. Lydia sent Jackson a message to come and pick her up. He would be there in twenty minutes.

Monica said, “How is it going with you, Jackson, and Derek's pack?”

Lydia picked up her blue rose and inspected what she had done. It had no thorns, because Lydia decided it didn't need any. Jackson might lose his thorns someday too, then everyone would love him just like Lydia did.

He really was a great leader. He inspired people to be better while getting rid of anything that didn't work. He would have remained the captain of both the swim team and the lacrosse team for the rest of high school, but then Scott turned into a werewolf and threatened Jackson's position at the top. But now Jackson was a wolf too, and things were going much better. Lydia hoped that Jackson wouldn't shatter any Olympic swimming records until after highschool, and even then, to shatter them only by a little bit.

_Can they test for magic in the Olympics? Ha! Haha! Wow._

_Can I respect any of them anymore? Surely there aren't many Olympian were-creatures. Too much notoriety._

Lydia smiled, “It's going really well. Stiles threw him against a tree, cracked his back, and he was unconscious for ten minutes, so they're not fighting anymore. They're naturally becoming friends, too. I didn't have to help that situation at all. Jackson is taking to the nature of a pack quite well. Now that Danny is a wolf, his influence is making everything go a bit smoother than it otherwise should have. At least, it makes sense that it would work like that. Does it work like that?”

“Werewolves are still fully themselves, but they can empathize with each other on a much higher level than people like us. Sometimes, individual werewolves can do this much better than normal, hence what you are witnessing with Danny. This also means that a werewolf's emotions are not 100% their own. This is one of the reasons that some Hunters give for their hate of werewolves. Those hunters that take the time to think about who they're hunting, anyway. They label this interaction as a loss of humanity and individuality. I label it as fine, with the outcome of a pack-bond being similar to any sort of well-adjusted group, like a group of marines, or a tight-knit family.” Monica lost her smile for a second, “There is something else that you're not saying.”

Lydia giggled, “Can they check for magic in the Olympics? Jackson might be heartbroken if you say yes.”

Monica laughed, “Most werewolves wouldn't want to be that high-profile. Jackson... He will likely decide for himself that the Olympics is a bit too much.”

When Jackson showed up he knocked on the door. Lydia opened it and walked out into the night. She turned back towards Monica, still inside the house, and smiled.

“Thank you for tonight, Monica Morrell.”

Monica said, “Again, fair warning: Don't try any of this on people. Plants are fine. Have a good weekend, Lydia Martin.”

Lydia hooked one arm into Jackson's and walked towards the porsche.

On the drive to Lydia's house, she handed the rose to Jackson. He skeptically glanced at the blue flower as he drove.

“Uh... Thanks? Were you pruning roses tonight? It has no thorns.”

Lydia smiled, “Not exactly. How was the pack meeting?”

“Danny is still really good at karate even though he hasn't done it in a year. I never thought it would be fun to throw a punch or a kick until today. Being able to heal this fast is amazing. It's actually kinda fun. Isaac really doesn't like it, though. I think he was having flashbacks, or something.”

“That might be a problem... How was Derek?”

Jackson laughed, “Still hasn't fucked Stiles yet.”

Lydia's mouth dropped open a little, “What? He actually told you this?”

“Just guessing. He has this horrible sense of unrequited-something going on.”

“Hmm... Well... His last relationship, that I know of, ended up killing his whole family and sent him on a downward spiral of trust-issues and abandonment-phobias for six years. He was thrust into this thing with Stiles well before he was emotionally able to handle it. I can tell that, in a lot of ways, he is still our age. I doubt any relationship he might have formed over the last six years was healthy.”

“... That sucks.”

Lydia nodded, “Yes. It does.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com  
> I don't post a whole lot, but I do occasionally make and post crappy fan-art.
> 
> Fair warning: I'm still relearning how to draw, and some of it is NSWF.


	16. Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets an item from Alan.  
> Some issues are resolved between Stiles and Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect it to go this way, but Derek ended up with a knot while he is wolfed out. Also, there is a tiny amount of blood mentioned during the sex. But it is not that bad, in my opinion.  
> So yeah...
> 
> Also: long chapter and I was really tired while editing. Sorry if there are mistakes.  
> And: Do people like explicit sex in their fics? 'cause I do, but idk which side of the fence most people come down on.

When Stiles got to Alan's house, Alan was standing on his porch, waiting. 

“Sorry! Sorry! I was late because of reasons. How's the vet business treating you, Alan?”

Alan grinned, “Come on in.”

Once again inside Alan's house, Alan directed Stiles to the empty kitchen table. Stiles sat down. Alan rummaged through what Stiles had begun to refer to as Alan's Magic Closet.

“What're we doing tonight? Can you teach me how to turn water into wine? That would be a great party trick. How about summoning monsters to do battle while I shout out attack names? I could totally see Derek shouting 'wereWOLF' as I say 'Derek, use slash attack!'... That might be a bad idea. He's not a monster. Oh god. I just called by boyfriend a monster. I'm a horrible person.”

Alan stopped rummaging and turned around to face Stiles, “Derek is your boyfriend now?”

“Uh, yeah. _That_ sort of happened. And other things that precipitated that happy occurance. Not to interrupt whatever you're doing, but I kinda want to ask you a few things about value judgment... We got an offer from the alpha pack and everyone has decided against it. I think they're all idiots, but you're involved too. So...”

Alan took a seat at the table, “Lets start at the beginning, shall we?”

Ten minutes later and Alan was as straight-faced as ever.

Alan said, “Morgan's offer is real. There is precedent. In 1975 they wanted the alpha twins born to a wolf pack in Canada. Their human mother had killed the alpha, her husband, and the power went to her unborn children. It was a complicated situation.”

Stiles said, “I really could end this by accepting Morgan's offer?”

“Yes.”

“... You don't think they would just get tired of me and kill me, and then come right back after Derek's pack?”

“No. The alpha pack functions like a democracy. They enjoy hunting other packs, but they don't attack unless there is an overwhelming desire to do so. They had reasons for coming here, but they aren't stupidly bloodthirsty. You could keep Morgan happy and have her vote to battle always be no. I have no doubt that she is a level headed individual. You don't get to be her age in her line of work by being stupidly bloodthirsty. They are all level-headed, in their own ways.”

Stiles face scrunched up. He was trying to process this new information and it was a bit difficult to hear Alan putting a positive spin on a bunch of killers.

“... But they're still a bunch of killers, aren't they? You sound like, I don't know, condoning. You don't think I should take this offer, do you?”

“... They are a menace to everyone, everywhere they go. Level-headed killers are still killers.”

“Is death for death, the right option here? Because I don't want it to be, but I also don't want to go with them.”

“Of course you should go with Morgan.”

Stiles lost all of his words. They should have been bouncing around in his head and knocking around trying to get out of his mouth, but they weren't. Everything seemed a little more dead. Everything was a bit darker. Derek was falling through his fingers as the moments ticked away.

Stiles stammered, “But. I...”

Alan frowned, “But what? Do you think your feelings matter at all compared to the lives of everyone caught in the crossfire? Could you live knowing you could have prevented all of this? Because, when this is over, if we chose to fight and lose, they're going to take you alive.”

Something snapped. It could have been anger, a sense of hopelessness, or disgust. It was probably all three and more. Stiles stood up, flailed his arms, and the words finally started coming.

“Yes! My fucking feelings matter! I don't want to be bullied around by those assholes. I just decided: I have no problem killing them to save the people I love, and to be able to be with the people I love for a long time to come. I would kill them to save my family, my pack. Death for death may not be your answer, you cryptic jerk, but it's mine. And besides that? A bunch of killers living the life they want by stepping all over everyone? Just plain wrong. How about all the other people they've killed over the years? The alpha pack deserves the harshest response possible for our sakes as well as for future generations. Appeasement is the wrong choice. It was the wrong choice against Hitler, and it is the wrong choice now.”

Stiles was a bit surprised at himself for using a recently learned history lesson in an argument against conceding to peace. That historical situation led to a lot of bloodshed, and that was bad. But just like letting the Nazis have their way then was not the right choice, letting the alpha pack have their way now was also not the right choice.

Alan smiled, “I'm glad you finally found your answer.”

Stiles's brow furrowed, “That's it? What else?”

“I may be a cryptic jerk, but this only works when you consciously choose your own path with a full realization of what that means. And I agree about not letting them have their way. We have a real opportunity. We could kill them all and end their threat to the rest of the supernatural world and this one. They've been in power for a long time, and they've kept a lot of supernatural forces at bay simply by being the biggest predator out there. So answer me this: Destroying them opens a hole that _something_ is going to fill. The devil you know is known, the unknown can be much worse. Are you prepared to go this route knowing that disrupting the alpha pack disrupts the equilibrium of the known world?”

Stiles took his seat and leveled a glare at Alan, “Are you really asking that sort of question?”

“Yes. I am. This question is at the heart of every decision my organization makes.”

“... I have no problem fighting if we actually have a chance. Is your organization actually incapable or fighting and winning, or are they just a bunch of pansies?”

Alan laughed, “No battle is without casualties. But yeah, we're kinda pansies in most cases.”

“Does that mean you think we have a chance?”

“Yes. But there are just as many ways for this to go right, as there are for this to go wrong. Are you certain that you want to fight?”

“Didn't we already answer that question? I thought my answer was pretty definitive... Yes. I want to fight.”

“Just making sure.” Alan got up and went to his magic closet. As is in realization, he turned around back towards Stiles, “You're not going to take the Bite, are you?”

“Oh god no! No way. Where did that come from?”

“Taking the Bite transforms you. You won't be able to do much magic after you change. But, you'd be able to live on the same level as the rest of your pack. No normal sickness or bad eyesight. More strength. You'd live a lot longer unless you die to other causes, too. So, all in all, it's probably the same chance of getting to see 80 as a normal person.”

“Oh my god. Dude. You're talking 64 years from now and I'm just trying to get past this summer. And I like being me. I don't want to be a wolf. Not that it wouldn't cool every once in a while...”

Alan smiled, nodded, and began rummaging through the magic closet. He first grabbed a wooden sword, then put it back. Then there might have been a metal disk, Stiles only caught a glimpse of whatever it was before it went back out of sight. After turning back to Stiles a few times, Alan finally settled on a small purple bag sitting on a hook on the wall.

“Using any of this while wearing the ash belt is impossible, so you should take off that belt now. And as a general rule, using the ash belt and anything else at the same time is impossible.”

Alan set the bag in front of Stiles while Stiles removed his belt and set it aside. Alan took the seat across from Stiles.

“I couldn't get that box you gave me to work while I was wearing the belt, either. In retrospect, that should have been obvious. I did well with it after I took off the belt, though. I close it, fill it with stuff, open it and watch it wisp away, then do it all over again. Doesn't take very long. It's all kinda Zen.”

Alan grinned, “Good. Do the same with this bag and then empty it onto the table. Don't look inside it before you dump it, though.”

Stiles did as he was told. White light pushed like fog to flow out from the opening. He gently emptied the bag onto the table. A dozen small talismans and rune-etched bones clattered out in a mostly ring-like pattern. The mountain ash symbol was the only one that Stiles recognized. That particular rune was the furthest from the center and more off on its own than anything else.

Alan looked at the configuration, looked up at Stiles, and went back into the closet.

Stiles said, “What was all this? Did you just read my fortune? What does it say? I'm not going to die, am I? Oh my god, who's going to die? Does Derek fall in love with me, or has he already? Does Morgan turn out to be a super psychopath? That last one is probably true anyway. How would a werewolf, an alpha, for example, that is not in the alpha pack, look in 50 years? How old are you? Are you a centurion too? How old is Monica? Are you able to fly like, on a broom? Please tell me that staff is for flying on. That would be awesome.”

As Stiles filled the silence all on his own, Alan pulled a very plain wooden staff from the closet and set it aside. His next excavation was a black box the size of his whole hand. He brought these two items to the table and set them on top of the wooden surface.

Stiles said, “So wizards really do use staffs. I was thinking that was a stereotype.”

Alan smiled as he spoke, “Pick one.”

Stiles said, “...Only one?”

Stiles looked at the staff, but the ominous nature of the black box was too much. When Stiles's hand touched the box instead of the staff, Alan took the staff away. The box was a plain affair with a seam along the top edge. Stiles flipped it open. Soft red cloth lined the interior and shiny metal things rested at the bottom. Stiles pulled it out. A dozen different colors of metal, all in the same fashion of inch-sized link, formed a looped chain about a foot long.

“... Can I change my answer? A staff might look strange when I show up to all my classes with it, but this is too much like high fashion jewelry. It doesn't even have a clasp. Is this supposed to be a necklace, or what?”

“Wear it as a bracelet on your right hand.”

“What metals are these? I'm going to make so much noise. I don't think making noise is a good idea when one of our enemy's strength is the ability to hear.”

“It lets you become a part of a group without becoming one of them.”

“Huh?”

“It means you can be a part of your pack without taking the Bite. You get the healing, strength, and increased senses of being a werewolf. Your ability is proportional to the strength of the group, and that group's desire for your presence, so you might get more or less than a normal wolf. This otherwise boring object does nothing when you're on your own. All this does is let you play on the same level as your friends.”

Stiles went wide-eyed, “Seriously? That's awesome! Do I get claws and a thick forehead? ...It's not permanent, is it? I like me... How does a thing like this exist?”

Alan said, “A decent but socially awkward man in Ancient Greece was having trouble fitting in at parties. Seeking help, but too drunk to get to the proper temple on temple row, he stumbled into Hermes's shrine. He prayed to the gods and Hermes answered. Hermes took pity on the man, not only for the strange request, but also because Hermes was well acquainted with moving between people and places. Hermes took his caduceus, a symbol of open and fair relations, and handed it to the man in the form of a twelve linked chain bracelet. This bracelet isn't that one, but it is fashioned with the same sort of intent. Most of the effects are not permanent. Stuff like were-agility will go away, but you'd still end up a bit better at balance than before.”

“Do I get claws and glow-in-the-dark eyes? What about the pack-bond and anger issues on the full moon?”

“Small ones. Yes. Not for a long time. And no. This item helps you become a part of a group, but it is not the Bite. To use it: Wear it on your right hand and then do a handshake with the group you are trying to integrate with. It also prevents the Bite or any other sort of transformative magic so you don't permanently become a part of any group.”

“You can prevent the Bite?”

“Yes. That is actually not that difficult to do.”

Stiles opened his mouth, but closed it again as he moved the links between his fingers. He paused in noticing the wings and serpent scales done heavily on some links, but almost non-existent on others. Some of the metals were easily identifiable. That one was probably gold. That one had to be silver. Copper might have been this other one. Past that, he had no idea what the rest were. He wrapped it up once on itself and put it on his right wrist.

“This has to be expensive.”

“Don't worry about it. It's yours now. Just like the belt.”

“My dragqueen friends will love it. Or hate it. I don't know. Speaking of... So this thing was made to make it easier to move around at parties? Will I be the life of the party? I don't know if I want the attention. Even with werewolf agility I'm still probably a total spaz... Will this cure my ADD?”

Alan smiled, “It doesn't make people like you, or even give you any power to affect a group outside of your own ability. It just lets you be a part of a group. Say the group you wanted to talk to was great at jumping rope, or running. With this, you could do either of those at the same level as them. When you get better with it, you can use it on smaller groups of people, and maybe even someday on individuals. It fails with groups larger than twelve. Nothing mystical will cure mental issues. I would caution against trying, too.”

“Not that this isn't awesome. But I was hoping more for lightning bolts and less... This. I'm no good in a physical fight. That's all this will let me do, won't it?”

Alan smiled, “Should have picked the staff, then.”

“ _What_? I could have been throwing lightning bolts? Could I get the staff too?”

“Nope. Sorry kid, you chose that one. We even went through that whole process with the runes. Most people have types of magic they are good at. This one is yours. I just put the staff out there as my own sort of test. The runes said you were never going to pick it, but I felt the need to test their theory.”

Stiles glanced at the now-closed magic closet, and wondered what was in there. Was there a way to fly, possibly with a certain pair of winged boots? This bracelet was all that sort of thing. Or maybe there was a Nimbus 3000 hidden in the dark recesses of the closet. Was it bigger on the inside, like the TARDIS? Was time travel possible? Then he remembered something he needed to ask Alan.

“Oh yeah. Is there a way to boost an alpha's tracking ability to people they have bitten? We're still looking for Gerard and this Monday is _Moonday_ , apparently. And his body hasn't turned up. So yeah, is there a way for Derek to find that guy before he decides he likes the taste of human flesh?”

Alan said, “Gerard has been at this long enough that he wouldn't let himself be tracked like that. I can't help you.”

“Could he handle the urge to kill as a wolf when he's never experienced it before? I'd think the Argents would have had a good 'know your enemy' sort of thing going on, but knowing-as-a-xenophobic-murder and being-a-wolf-for-the-first-time has to be different, right?”

Alan's tone turned serious, “You should leave it alone. Concentrate on learning this and experiencing your pack from the inside. You could try it with other groups too, but you'll only be able to hold onto one group at a time until you get used to it.”

Stiles pulled a face, “We can't leave this alone! Gerard is _exactly_ the kinda guy we need to watch out for. He's just as murderous as the alpha pack, and he doesn't have a time table! He could come at us at any time. He's an old man too, he would know that the alpha power slows aging. Does it slow aging? I mean, it looks like it does. So if it does, he'll be coming after Derek, again. He's afraid of death, that's why he wanted to do all that crap to us in the first place.”

Alan said, “Stiles. As your teacher and someone much further in this line of work than you, I suggest you leave it alone.”

“I'm usually all for hoping a problem will go away, but this one won't. So tell my, why should I ignore this?”

“I don't need to tell you why.”

Stiles stammered, “That's... That's just not helpful! I trust you because you're a pretty good guy and you've helped us before and you have a history with the Hale pack, but I need more than that. Saying: 'Alan said to not worry about it,' will not be good enough for any of us. If you're really refusing to help, then I'll have to resort to the internet.”

Alan sighed, “Fine. _We_ are handling it. _Us_. That's more than I should have told you, so leave it alone... And don't try the crap you find on the internet. Most of it is useless, but anything with any truth could end badly.”

Stiles sat back down, “You're handling Gerard?”

Alan said, “Yes. Stop asking.”

“That's... cool... then.”

 

After having Stiles fill up another runed box that Alan had lying around, which only took half a moment of concentration for Stiles to do, Stiles put the bracelet back onto his right wrist. Alan and Stiles stood in front of each other and shook hands. Nothing happened. Stiles tried again, concentrating till the bracelet began to glow. Still, nothing happened. Alan smiled.

“It's not working. It was supposed to work, wasn't it?”

“It was working, but failed for other reasons.”

“What other reasons?”

“We aren't accepting new members right now. I don't have the authority for that sort of thing. You'll have better luck if you do this with the leader of whatever group you're entering. Take your pick, they're all valid reasons.”

Stiles said, “Ah. Cool. Cool. Is that it for tonight then? When are we doing this again?”

“Next Friday. One last thing before you go: Derek has had a lot of pain in his life. He doesn't trust anyone, but he seems to be getting better. You and he is not going to be easy.”

Stiles glanced down at the ground. He lifted his head then said, “Yeah. But I still want to try. Thanks for the bracelet. Sorry for my Dad harassing you on Tuesday.”

“It was no trouble. Good night, Stiles Stilinski.”

 

Stiles was glad to get out of there. By 9:00 he was back home and doing his homework so he would have the weekend free. At 10:00, he took a shower while trying to make himself comfortable with a cucumber. He only mildly succeeded, and then only after an hour of trying. By midnight, he was done with the algebra and ready for a different activity. The pack should have completed training for the night, so he sent Derek a text.

'Want to come over? I'm all alone.'

Five minutes later, Derek sent back, 'Don't you need to sleep?'

Stiles blurted out to the empty room, “Oh my god. No, Derek.”

Stiles sent, 'I want to watch a movie and eat pizza with you.'

After a short pause, 'I'll be there in 10.'

 

Twenty five minutes later the doorbell rang. Stiles flinched at the strange and unexpected noise. As the sound of bells echoed up the stairwell, Stiles ran through the possibilities awaiting at the front door. Scott wouldn't be here this late without a text or call. Morgan? Oh, god no. Not him. It wasn't Derek, was it? Derek took over twenty minutes go get here when he said he would be here in 10, and now he was ringing the doorbell? Was the apocalypse happening? Stiles, dressed in comfortable night clothes, hurried downstairs and answered the door.

Stiles looked Derek up and down while Derek just stared. He wore a clean t-shirt and pants and did not look like he had spent the last six hours running and training with the pack. Did he shower before he came here? Is that why he was late?

Stiles said, “I was expecting to have a heart attack when you tapped on the window. Coming through the front door-” Stiles looked behind Derek and saw that familiar black camaro parked in the street, “-And parking near the house? What sorcery is this? Who are you and what have you done with my Derek?”

Stiles noticed Derek flinch at being called 'my Derek.' After the moment passed, Derek mumbled “sorry,” and turned around to walk away. Stiles's mouth dropped open at the impossibility of Derek being hurt by something Stiles had said. Stiles took three large steps and caught Derek by the wrist.

Stiles blurted out, “What did I say? Are you okay? Don't walk away.”

Derek said, “... Your father told me to park in front of the house.”

Stiles blanched, “He-did-not. He did? Oh god. Um... Then I guess you should park there. Whatever. If he comes by tonight I'm going to make him eat celery for a month. _We're_ having pizza and a movie.”

Derek's shoulders relaxed, “Sounds good to me.”

“Did something happen today?”

“No. I... Nevermind.”

Stiles didn't want to push, yet. So Stiles moved his hand from Derek's wrist to Derek's hand and squeezed. He smiled and led the less-frowny alpha into his house. Derek ended up on a stool in the kitchen while Stiles continued to move around. Pulling a frozen veggie pizza out of the fridge earned Stiles a questioning look.

Stiles moved back towards the freezer as he spoke, “Even big scary alphas need their veggies. But I have stuff in here to doctor it up in ways I won't do for my Dad.” Stiles moved around an ice tray and pulled out a bag, “Cooked bacon, just add heat. More cheese. Do you like sausage? I have that too. How much do you like bacon?”

Derek grinned as he said, “A lot.”

“All the way, then.”

Stiles pulled another hidden bag out of the depths of the fridge. He chopped up the whole package of bacon and placed it on the pizza along with the sausage. Covered with another layer of cheese, garlic salt, and black pepper, the whole thing went into the oven.

Stiles talked the whole time he was putting the pizza together, “Do you like terrible horror movies? Because they're sort of my secret passion. Terrible movies are great, but terrible _horror_ movies are fantastic. If you want to change into something more comfortable, you can wear some of my shorts or PJs in my room. What sort of movies do you like? I bet you like the exact opposite of what everyone thinks you might like. That new red riding hood movie that came out? I bet you hated it. Or never even went to see it. Please tell me you don't like romantic comedies. That might be a deal breaker. Do you like animated movies? Oh, I know! Documentaries! I bet you liked that penguin movie that came out... what was that one called?”

Derek said, “March of the Penguins.”

Stiles smiled, “I knew it! You do like documentaries! Which is your favorite? I'll see if I can find it on Netflix.”

“... Never Cry Wolf.”

Stiles almost laughed, but didn't, “That is too perfect. Never heard of it though.”

“It came out before I was born. It was my Mother's favorite movie.”

“Well. Then. We simply have to watch it!”

“No. We don't. We can watch whatever you want to watch.”

Stiles frowned, “I think you should put on something more comfortable. Not that I don't like your pants. But pants are not proper household movie watching attire. When you come back down I'll have that movie waiting for us.”

“It's not a great movie...”

“I thought it was your favorite?”

“It was. I haven't seen it in a long time. I've forgotten most of it.”

“Then it will be like we're both watching a brand new movie.”

Derek grinned and left the kitchen as Stiles went to search for the movie. Derek came back pulling at a pair of shorts that might have been too short and entirely too revealing, but that was fine with Stiles. Or maybe it wasn't. Stiles did say 'shorts or PJs' and there is no way Derek simply missed the PJs. Tonight might end up that way, but Stiles really wanted Derek to be happy. The meat pizza was a good idea, so was Derek's favorite movie, but the rest? Recent events proved that Derek was the kind of guy that gave of himself before he was ready. He had even wanted to wait till Stiles was 18 before he made a move. Two years in a stable pack would have probably helped him be ready for this, but as he was now...

The guy already had 6 years of time.

That might be enough time, right?

Stiles was more than ready. Time for wounds to heal was important, but they really might not have that much time. Stiles was completely unsure of himself as Derek moved to the couch and sat down as far away from Stiles as possible.

Never Cry Wolf waited for Stiles to press play.

Stiles stood up and said, “Want something to drink? Soda, water, milk for big strong werewolf bones? Pizza will be ready in fifteen but we can start the movie. I'm getting a soda, want one?”

Derek said, “Yeah.”

Stiles grabbed two cans from the fridge. Back in the living room, Stiles reluctantly sat down on the far end of the couch and handed Derek his soda.

They sat in silence and apart while they watched the movie. The alarm for the pizza startled Derek more than it did Stiles. They paused the movie and brought the pizza back into the living room.

It was a much more serious movie than Stiles was hoping for.

A researcher named Tyler was sorta-abandoned in the arctic to find out why wolves were killing all of the caribou. Being in the arctic for the first time was difficult, but then Tyler came across an Inuit man that helped him survive the harsh environment. Once that was settled, Tyler found a pair of wolves and their cubs that prove much more curious and playful than the killers that Tyler expected to find. Eventually, it came to the point where Tyler was peeing to mark his territory right alongside the wolves. Tyler found out arctic wolves hunted rodents much more frequently than they hunted large prey.

Derek said, “This movie did a lot of things for animal rights. It showed that wolves weren't just killers killing for fun. It was this whole big thing in Canada in the 80's.”

Derek was the edge of sadness even when everyone in the movie was playing in the snow. His normal frown was gone. His emotions were laid bare on his face for all to see. Stiles couldn't take it anymore. During a scene where everyone was happy and Derek looked to cry, Stiles paused the movie and scooted to the middle of the couch. Derek went motionless as Stiles moved still closer.

Stiles said, “Don't tell me this movie has a sad ending. Oh my god. It doesn't end well, does it? Who dies? Tyler? Is it the wolves? The cubs? If this is a sad movie I want to be in my boyfriend's arms when it happens.”

Derek was confused at first, then reluctant, so Stiles grabbed his nearest foot and tried to twist him onto the couch. Derek wasn't budging, so Stiles fake-whimpered. Derek caved after ten seconds and moved like it was killing him inside. He twisted to put his feet on either side of Stiles, and laid back. Stiles smiled, laid against Derek with his head on Derek's chest and his back not touching Derek's crotch, and pressed play.

Stiles said, “Much better. I can see the attraction of this position. You're much warmer than a blanket and you smell better too.”

Stiles used Derek's legs as armrests. He succeeded in not squeezing those wonderfully muscular legs. Derek might have given off heat like a furnace, but he remained as immobile as the couch. When Tyler helped the wolves kill a diseased caribou, Derek moved one arm down and onto Stiles. His second arm came down soon after. Stiles neared the final third of the movie pulled flush against Derek and wrapped in his arms.

That particular action had nothing to do with Stiles pressuring closer. It was all Derek.

When Tyler went back to his camp and found out a hunter had killed the parent wolves, leaving the cubs to die, Stiles felt Derek sigh into his neck.

Stiles said, “Oh my god. The cubs. Who's going to take care of them?”

Derek didn't answer for a while, “... They're orphaned. The movie doesn't say if they die or not. But they probably do.”

“This is a fucking depressing movie.”

Derek laugh-snorted, “Yeah. It is. But I get to watch it with you, so it isn't that bad.”

Stiles leaned back and kissed Derek's chin. “Dude. I'm picking the next movie, and it is going to be damn happy.”

Derek nuzzled Stiles, “Okay.”

The ending had Tyler walking off across the tundra with his Inuit friend, and there was probably something meaningful in the words that went across the screen, but all Stiles could think about was the fact that Derek was probably crying into his shoulder.

He couldn't exactly tell because he was locked in Derek's arms and facing away, but Derek was breathing a bit more erratically. That might have been a normal three sniffles and accompanying sighs, but they probably weren't.

Stiles said, “So it's like two AM. Want to watch something funny, or go to bed?”

“...I should get going.”

“Wha-”

Derek unwrapped himself and stood up, nearly knock Stiles off the couch. Stiles righted himself and reached out to stop Derek from leaving. As his hand grabbed Derek's wrist, Derek froze, not facing Stiles, and not saying a word. At Stiles's insistence, Derek turned to face him. Super werewolf healing rid Derek of any of the obvious signs of someone who had been crying, but there were still a few shiny trails down his cheeks.

His trademarked frown was back, and so were his red eyes. But Stiles wasn't scared of the red anymore. Now that Stiles thought about it, he hadn't been really scared of Derek's wolf for a while. Stiles reached his free hand up to Derek's cheek and brushed away a tear. Derek looked like someone had just stabbed him in the face.

Stiles said, “Please don't go.”

Derek said, “You're too good for me. I don't want to ruin you. I can't do this right now. I want to hold you and never let you go, but... I'll break you and I won't know how to fix it. I can't do this. I'm... Sorry.”

Stiles tried to figure out a way to fix this. Hopefully, before Derek decided he didn't want to let Stiles hold him by his wrist anymore.

What was with him and wrist grabbing, anyway? It happened twice just tonight. Was Stiles really the abusive boyfriend in this scenario? Oh crap. Was he? Stiles accidentally alphabane'ed Derek who then proceeded to blame himself for the incident. Stiles proceeded with the sexy-times yesterday and before the meeting with Alan because it was right there, even though Derek was not willing to go that far as evidence by this latest exchange. And now Stiles was physically preventing Derek from walking away.

As physically preventative as a 150 pound bag of bones could be versus a werewolf. But that wasn't the point. Derek was an alpha and could literally break Stiles in half if he wanted to. He was only letting Stiles hold him because he didn't want to hurt Stiles.

“Oh.” Stiles tried to not fall apart inside, “Are you worried you'll hurt me? Like, physically?”

“Yes.”

“But you've always been in control. Even when you threatened to rip out my throat with your teeth, you were still in control. I didn't know it then, but I do know it now. You would never hurt someone just because they pissed you off. Why are you making your eyes red right now? They aren't scary to me anymore. I thought you would have figured that out. They're beautiful, just like you. Or, handsome, if you'd prefer.”

Derek's eyes blazed red. His claws came out “You're making me lose control, Stiles. I can't be around you when all you do is make me lose my anchor.”

Now Stiles was mad, “What-the-fuck. How do I make you lose control? Tell me, and I'll fix it!”

“You take away my anger, and that's all I have to keep in control. Anger is my anchor.”

“You need a different anchor.”

Derek's red eyes and claws instantly vanished.

Stiles noticed, “Did I just piss you off?”

“... Yes.”

Stiles released his death-grip, “And do you think this is a problem? Wouldn't you rather be happy than angry?”

“... Yes.”

“Good! Knowing you have a problem is the first step to fixing it. No one is perfect. You really need to stop thinking everything is your fault. You didn't call the alpha pack here. You didn't make Jackson a Kanima, that was his own damn fault. And you're certainly not responsible for your actions when I alphabane'ed you.”

Derek said, “It _is_ all my fault, Stiles! If I didn't have these feelings towards you I wouldn't have responded that way to the alphabane. If I wasn't so selfish I would have let you go for the good of my pack and this town. I never should have given Jackson the bite. I knew it then but I did it anyway.”

“You did _NOT_ know that back then. Fuck you and your pity party. None of that was your fault.”

“This isn't a goddamned pity party. This is the truth.”

“People make mistakes. Get over it. Are you seriously mad at yourself for having emotions? Because, Dude, thank god you have emotions. Otherwise you'd be a machine, or a rabid omega. And then I would never get to experience your awesomeness.”

“I am not awesome.”

Stiles sighed, “Stop. Right there. Take it from me, a person you just called 'too good for you': You are awesome, Derek Hale.”

Derek closed his eyes, his face went expressionless. “I can't do this. I'll end up hurting you.”

Stiles groaned. Then he remembered the bracelet on his wrist and what one of the effects of joining a werewolf pack would be. Super special werewolf healing, among other things. Maybe, if Derek couldn't actually break him at a touch, then Derek wouldn't be so set against trying.

“Oh my god, stupid ADD. I forgot. There was the movie and then there was you being all handsome and it just slipped my mind. Everyone is good at at least one type of magic, this one is mine, apparently. Now give me your damned right hand so I can show you. Maybe you won't be so scared of hurting me once you see.”

Stiles stuck out his right hand and tried not to think of a dog training joke. His mind always seemed to go to the worst places. Derek's scowl deepened. Derek glanced at the offered hand like it covered in wolfsbane and going to end him if he touched it.

“What are you doing, Stiles?”

“Do you want me, or not?”

“... No.”

“Goddamn it, Derek. What do you want? I didn't ask what emotional problems you're having right now. I asked: _What do you want_? Because I want you. You and your wonderful frowny face that I just want to make smile again.”

Derek stared at Stiles's hand for a minute. His eyes tinted red. His claws flashed out then disappeared. He frowned and his alpha eyes went away. When it happened, Stiles wasn't ready for it. Derek's hand was suddenly in his. Stiles smiled.

There weren't any visual effects, much to Stiles's disappointment. He was hoping for arcs of while light or maybe tingly lightning. After they released hands, the first thing Stiles noticed was Derek's strange expression. Derek smelled like concern. How did Stiles know what concern smelled like? Then came the smell of cooling pizza. It was a wave of deliciousness that assaulted his nose and begged to be eaten in huge handfuls. When that moment passed, he looked back to Derek.

Stiles said “So that's what concern smells like. This is all very different for me. Why are you looking at me like that, anyways? Did I wolf out?” Stiles pointed to his bracelet and saw that his nails were not claws, but they were bigger and pointier, “That's what this was for. It lets me join a group without actually joining. Levels the playing field, and all that. I kinda want to try it out with a bunch of porn guys just to see how big my dick gets. But I don't know any porn guys. I'm a little scared to try it out with a specifically-all-female group. It prevents transformative magic from affecting me, too. So no worries about being accidentally bit.”

Derek watched Stiles ramble on like he had grown another head.

Stiles said, “Oh my god. You smell so sad. That is not good. You should be happy, not sad. I don't know if I got this part too, but lets see...”

Stiles dragged his sharp thumb across the tips of two fingers. Derek and Stiles both watched as the wounds healed in a second. As the wounds closed, it sent a cascade of healing through the rest of his body. That small twinge in his foot from stepping wrong in lacrosse practice? Gone. The slight allergies from it being that time of the year? Gone. Stiles became aware of just how much physical pain he was in when it all vanished at once.

Stiles did a quick check of himself. Heart beating a bit fast, but that seemed normal given the situation. He felt warmer, for sure. Derek's sadness was gone, replaced with something approaching euphoria.

“See? You won't be able to break me in half on accident, anymore.”

Derek's eyes were bright red. His claws were out but his face hadn't changed. He growled a little as he spoke, “How?”

“Magic.” Stiles felt cocky. He tried to lock that feeling down, “You're smiling. I like making you smile.”

“I like it when you make me smile, too.”

“We're still dating, right? I don't think you could do a whole lot of serious damage to me unless you actually tried, now. So no more 'am I going to physically hurt him' worries, right? I fixed that issue, right?”

Derek's smiled faltered, “I don't know...”

“But you said you want me. This wouldn't have worked at all, otherwise.”

“Wants and desires mean nothing when it comes to doing the right thing.”

“God! You're so hung up on getting everything right. No one is perfect, except maybe Lydia. And she's much smarter than you or I. So what are we supposed to do? Ask her everything? I'm not going to do that. I doubt the thought even crossed your mind considering it's too insane to ever be a good idea. Have you noticed how manipulative she is? And she's really good at it, too.”

“... I want to go slower. I don't want to stop. I never want to stop with you.”

“I don't want you to stop, either.”

Derek moved towards Stiles. His claws were out and his eyes were bright red. He paused inches away, the light from his eyes shining on Stiles's face, but he didn't make the closing move. He waited. Stiles took half a step forward and closed the gap. Derek didn't move away.

Stiles said, “By slower: You mean no sex, or what? 'Cause you this close is confusing compared to your last statement. I can tell you're already half-hard, and I've been waiting for it. Getting ready. Before you got here, too. I don't want my preparations to be wasteful. Holy shit, did that cucumber take a long time. I had to use a carrot to start with. On the plus side: I'm all healed up now. On the minus side: I need to get more salad stuff for Dad tomorrow.”

Derek said, “I mean less depressing movies. That movie is no longer my favorite. You smell so good.”

Stiles took a deep breath. “You smell fantast-”

They pressed together. Derek's mouth went over Stiles's. Stiles wanted to use more tongue, but Derek's had his fangs out and there was this sharp pain and the taste of blood in his mouth. Stiles pulled away.

“No more kissing or BJs for you tonight! I don't want fangs on my tongue or my dick. No way. Too fragile. You might slice off something I can't get back.”

Derek smelled so happy. Even with the red eyes, fangs, and claws, he still looked happy. His face hadn't shifted yet, at least he had that much control left. Stiles moved back onto Derek and looked at his reflection in Derek's eyes. His own eyes were glowing white.

Stiles said, “Holy crap. My eyes are all white.”

“Your eyes have been white since you took my hand... I really can't hurt you, can I?”

“Don't go testing my limits! Except your dick in my ass. We can test that. Let's test that a whole lot.”

Derek started kissing Stiles's neck, scrapping his stubble all the way. Derek ran his hands across Stiles's back, one pushing upward while the other went into the back of Stile's shorts. Stiles felt it when Derek's claws ran through his skin. Like unexpected ice, it caused Stiles to flinch. After the initial shock the trail of pain quickly went away. Derek knew what he had just done. The smell of blood hung in the air. Derek stopped while he wanted for Stiles to say something.

Stiles said, “Dude. Let's go to the bathroom. I'm not getting blood out here. But don't stop touching me. I'm healing already. The pain is already gone.”

Derek followed Stiles to the bathroom.

Can _this work out of his system, or is this just how it's going to be between us? Thank god for all the tile. Easy clean up. Holy fuck, I want his cock so bad._

Stiles tore off his own shirt and shorts as he crossed the door to the bathroom. Derek was right behind him. His shirt was gone, his abs begging to be licked. His dick poked out of the bottom of his shorts, solid and dripping. Actually, they were Stiles's shorts. Stiles hoped Derek would always wear them to bed. They displayed everything just so perfectly it was obscene. But right now, they were offensive.

Stiles grabbed the offensive shorts and pulled them down. Derek's huge cock pointed straight at Stiles's face. It throbbed, growing harder by the second. Near the base of Derek's cock was something Stiles had never seen before, except on werewolf porn he found when researching the subject. Purely for educational purposes. At first, anyway.

Two bumps of flesh, one on either side. They were not pulsing veins, they were assuredly knots. Stiles gripped them and Derek stopped moving. Stiles looked up. Derek had his hands over his face.

“Uh. Derek. Didn't you say...”

“Yeah. It's a knot. I normally don't. But I'm currently wolfed out and the more you keep talking instead of letting me slam you against a wall and fuck you, the more desperate the fucking will be. Next time will be better. Right now I really need to fuck you.”

“Oh fuck. Keep talking like that. All the time. That is good dirty talk.”

Derek picked Stiles up by the shoulders and pressed him into the wall. Derek's face scrapped across Stile's neck as a knee separated Stile's legs and his cock left a trail of precome pressed into Stiles's thigh. Stiles was pushed foot up the wall. His hands gripped Derek's shoulders for support.

With a hand on either side of Stiles's hips, Derek moved Stiles onto the solid bathroom counter. Stiles felt trapped in a metal vise and knew there would be bruises, but as Derek moved his hands away, the bruises vanished. Derek lifted Stiles's legs and rubbed his cock against Stiles's hole. His precome was enough to remove most of the friction.

Stiles said, “Fucking stick your fingers up there before that thing.”

“My claws aren't going away.”

“Use your knuckles. I had a cucumber up there three hours ago. I can't be that tight this soon.”

Derek put his hands under Stiles's knees and pulled them upward. Stiles startled when Derek slapped his huge cock on his balls before pressing onto Stiles. As he bent down and kissed Stiles, he began to laugh.

Stiles said, “What?”

“You're going to bleed any way we do this. So get ready.”

Stiles reached over and grabbed the moisturizer sitting on the counter and shoved it towards Derek.

Stiles smiled, “I _am_ ready,”

Derek's claws slipped and the bottle tore in half sending cream colored goo everywhere.

Derek said, “Dammit. Whatever.”

Derek spread some on his cock and onto Stiles's asshole. Tiny accidental cuts vanished as soon as they happened, but the creamy goo turned pink anyway. Stiles was determined to not turn blood into a kink.

Stiles felt it when two of Derek's knuckles easily pressed into his hole. Stiles was ready, but he didn't exactly want the pain that he knew was coming. Stiles stared at Derek, hoping that they would be doing this many more times in the future. Derek's huge arms and chest, His breathing and careful hands. His face that was a mix between happiness and relief. Yeah, he had cut Stiles a few time, but he was trying not to.

Derek rubbed a handful of moisturizer along Stiles's hole and lined his cock up to the welcoming entrance. The head pressed forward. Stiles felt a sudden pain that vanished just as quickly as Derek's claw marks. Stiles was torn between the smell of new blood, and the massive girth that was entering him and not slowing down. An involuntary noise growled out of his chest.

“Oh god. Too much. Sl-”

Derek's mouth latched onto his, cutting off Stiles's strangled cry. Stiles felt a snapping relief as the head made it all the way in. Derek broke away from the all consuming kiss.

Stiles moaned, “Holy fuck, fuck. Your cock is huge. Why the fuck do you get such an awesome body and such a great cock but such a shitty life?” Stiles relaxed and felt another two inches rush forward. “Fuck fuck fuck. Derek.”

“Tell me how much you want it.”

“I want your cock. I want you. I want you inside of me. I want your knot. Fuck me. Fill me with your come and then fuck me some more.”

Derek slowly pulled all the way out. Stiles wanted to slap him as his asshole clenched shut onto nothing. Derek put another layer of moisturizer on his cock and played with prodding Stiles's asshole.

“If you don't fuck me right now. I'm going to call in my chit and declare your ass for fucking instead.”

Derek smiled, “Maybe some other time.”

Derek pushed forward, past Stiles's pain and past the blood. He kept going. Stiles forgot to breath until Derek paused. It was painful. But the pain vanished as soon as Stiles noticed it. His own cock was solid and leaking onto his own abs.

“I have abs. Holy shit, I have abs. And they're good abs too! Oh my god!”

Derek grinned, “That's half of it. Take my cock, Stiles. Oh god. Take it.”

Derek gingerly grabbed Stile's cock and started rocking back and forth, jerking Stiles off in rhythm to fucking him. It finally started to feel great when he found Stiles's prostate and held his cock there for a moment. Stiles clenched down and Derek pushed past, rocking across that spot in his search for more space. Stiles relaxed and Derek shoved further, pushing moans out of Stiles's throat.

“I want your balls on my ass, Derek. Derek. Fuck me.”

“Almost there.”

“Stop with my cock, I'm going to come.”

“You're going to take my knot and I'm going to make you come. I'm going to fill you with my seed. It's gonna be so far inside of you that everyone will smell it on you for days. You're mine, Stiles. _Mine_.”

Stiles felt the extra pressure at his hole three times before it pushed inside with a pulse of pain and fullness.

Stiles gasped and started to come.

Derek held his knot inside while Stiles came in jerking spastic glamor and clamped down around Derek's massive cock. Stiles's convulsions sent Derek over the edge. Stiles wasn't sure which was the better feeling: Derek's balls and hips pressed hard and tight against his ass. The knot expanding and locking them together. Or Derek's cock pulsing thick ropes of hot come deep inside. Stiles was full in a way he never knew he really enjoyed until now, and he loved that Derek was the one that was doing this. Stiles ran a hand across Derek's abs pinched a nipple while he smiled. Derek shook as he kept coming.

Stiles said, “Holy fuck. Your dick is still huge. Oh god. It's still pulsing. How long is it going to do that?”

If he didn't develop a blood kink, he definitely had a knot one. He tried to tease his ass to see if the knot was going to move. All he got for his efforts was a growl from Derek. Derek's eyes were still bright red as he laid down onto Stiles and kept coming.

Stiles liked it when he was able to wrap his legs around Derek. He liked it even more when Derek picked him up and held him in his massive arms. Derek began to walk out of the bathroom, evidence dripping everywhere. Stile snagged a towel as they left the bathroom and headed to his bedroom.

“You're mine, Stiles. Everyone will know it now. Morgan won't touch you. You'll be smelling like me for days. When you stop smelling like me I'm going to fuck you like this again.”

“Holy fuck. Your knot. How long?”

“An hour. I might even get hard and start shooting again.”

“It's still pulsing right now and it's been a minute. How long is an orgasm for you? Put this towel down on the bed. I'm not laying in a wet spot for an hour.”

Derek kissed Stiles and laid down on the towel on the bed. Stiles sat on top, still straddled on Derek's cock and hips, the knot still holding them together. As he sat there staring down at Derek, he felt more than just a huge cock and knot in his ass. Something was growing between them, and Stiles liked where it was headed.

He laid down and locked mouths with Derek. Stiles's cock was instantly hard as Derek's dick-thick tongue prodded his mouth. Stiles liked it when he didn't have fangs in there. Derek smiled and grabbed Stiles's cock with clawless hands.

Stiles came three more times as he was jacked off by Derek. The pool of come on Derek's chest was nothing compared to what was in Stiles's ass, and when Derek came again, Stiles was filled up even more.

Exhausted an hour and a half later, Derek's knot finally released. Stiles had trouble walking for half a minute, but his pseudo-super-healing took care of that.

“If I get healed all the time, does that mean that my ass is back to being tight? Because god damn, I was hoping the next time would be easier.”

Derek laughed, “It's five am and we're both tired. Do you really want to go again so soon?”

“Oh no. Tomorrow, sure. Not right now. Time for a shower and bed.

They cleaned the bathroom well enough so that Jed wouldn't instantly know what had happened. Hopefully, Jed would never think to use one of those blacklights. After a quick shower and nestling together on the bed, they fell asleep at 6:00 am.

Stiles left a note on the front of his closed door.

 

Enter upon pain of salad for a month.

You knew this would happen, you practically condoned it.

We'll go to the shooting range later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed Stiles's new item.  
> There are a ton of mythic references in the show. Stiles (as a Perseus type character) should have an item that has allusions to the Greek Gods. I think this one is going to work out well for him.
> 
> I didn't actually watch the movie Never Cry Wolf, but I thought Derek having a thing for documentaries was perfect. So, when I was looking up documentaries this one came up.  
> The male lead is a guy named Tyler, the parents of the wolf family die and the cubs are on their own partially because of Tyler's unintended actions, the whole movie is about how wolves are not as bad as people think they are...  
> SO MANY COINCIDENCES. I HAD TO DO IT EVEN THOUGH I HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE.
> 
> I liked the sex they had. 
> 
> ...follow me at arcs-of-light.tumblr.com if you feel like it! I post crappy art occasionally.  
> Comments are very welcome. Thanks for reading.


	17. Allison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison has trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no betas! Just a lone alpha.  
> (haha, puns. gotta love 'em)
> 
> Sorry if some words are messed up.

Allison's emotional transformation had gone through a dozen different phases to get where she was this Saturday afternoon, calmly shooting at the local shooting range.

She had been scared and helpless when she found out about her family. Then she was learning, and deciding on love instead of war. Then, for a while, she was happy with her decision. Her aunt had been killed by werewolves, and she hated herself for thinking like this, but it was her own damn fault. She brought that on herself for breaking The Code.

That was around the same time that she decided she liked her father's Code, but she never really talked like it was the Be-All-End-All of reasoning like it was for her father. She was in love and The Code fit nicely with her preferred world-view.

Do bad things and you get bad things done to you.

Simple stuff, really.

Things were strange for a while when Jackson was killing people as the Kanima and her grandfather came into town. The world shifted under her feet once again. Derek was turning children into wolves and Gerard was twisting her thoughts to destruction.

Then, her mother, her precious vicious lovely strong wonderful mother, was bitten by Derek.

Victoria took her own life so she wouldn't be a wolf, and Allison lost all compassion.

Dark and wonderful was the freedom from ideals like The Code. Kate had the right idea all along. Wolves were ugly horrible monsters that deserved death. They shouldn't be allowed to live in this world with normal people like Allison and her father. She wanted to kill Boyd and Erica. She really did. Her father and his stupid ignorant Code got in the way of her putting down some monsters in human skin.

It was only a matter of time before they hurt or turned someone. They had to die before that. Gerard educated her on all the reasons why werewolves were monsters that deserved death, and all those reasons made sense.

Power structure determined by force instead of reason? Check.

Inability to have your own emotions? Check.

Uncontrollable rage resulting in the death of innocents? Check.

A Bite that turned people, yanking away their freedom away and replacing it with a pack mentality? Yes.

Werewolves weren't allowed in heaven, they were monsters in body and soul?

That one was a bit too religious-y for Allison, but there were a lot of reasons to believe in magic. Heaven and hell and all those other realms _could_ be real. Allison didn't know what to believe anymore. Asking Gerard resulted in cryptic responses that involved words like, 'I've seen too much to doubt their existence too strongly,' and 'It cannot be as simple as that. But for some, it is.'

And then her grandfather was in control of the Kanima and threatening Allison's life for his own personal gain. Gerard wanted the Bite and he was willing to kill everyone to get it, including Allison and her father. Gerard used her life as a scare tactic to force Scott, who had been working with him the whole time in secret, to do his bidding.

The world shifted under her feet once again, and then again in the span of ten minutes when Scott had a plan all along.

Scott had a plan. The idea of that was just too strange to Allison to comprehend. She already knew Scott wasn't the idiot that everyone seemed to think he was. He wasn't Lydia-smart, or even Stiles-smart, but he was always trying to do the right thing, and that counted for more than just something.

Was she still in love with Scott? She really didn't know. It had been such a deep thing before all this turmoil. It had been the most profound emotion she had ever experienced in her life. She had wanted to be with Scott forever.

Now, the depth of that ignorant love was difficult to rationalize.

Now, she was a much older person, even if only a month had passed. She had grown a shell, hard and strong and thickening by the hours. She might find someone to love again, she doubted it would be Scott, but she would never let anyone in that far. Never again.

Allison stood perpendicular to the paper target a hundred yards away. She adjusted her earmuffs and goggles and picked up her gun. Her father had her training with handguns this time. Allison had decided that bows are nice, and she still preferred them, but guns are much quicker. After a set of tests she found out she liked rifles, but Chris insisted she know how to use a handgun as well.

A proper hunter should know every tool there is to know.

She put a round of bullets into the target, pressed the button to retrieve it, and saw that she was still not very accurate with a handgun. With a rifle she was able to put a hole near the center every time. Handguns were much less accurate at the range she was used to. But handguns at close range were too easy.

Therefore, she practiced.

At 3:00 in the afternoon, after two hours of shooting and making progress from 50% accuracy to 75%, she went to exchange her handgun for some easy fun with a rifle. She met Stiles and the Sheriff on their way in.

Allison and Stiles both froze upon seeing each other. If anyone else at the front office of the shooting range noticed, they didn't react. The Sheriff did notice though, and was the first to speak.

“Allison Argent, right? How much about all of this stuff do you know?”

Allison said nothing.

The Sheriff spoke with a knowing tone and posture, _“Everything?”_

Allison glowered at Stiles, _“Stiles.”_

The Sheriff kept his eyes locked on Allison.

Stiles craned his neck back and put up his hands as if removing himself from the situation.

“I never said any names! Dad's smart. He figured it out. Probably just now. You're the one that did that with that reaction of your's. I'm here for gun training. _What_. It's a free country. You hunters don't own this place,” Stiles narrowed his eyes, “Or _do_ you?”

Allison closed her eyes and took a breath before answering. She purposefully changed her stance to something more cocky and strong. She waited till some of the non-initiated moved away from earshot.

“Not our family. But, yeah, we do. Not everyone here is one of us. Look, since you know everything I'm not going to sugarcoat this: Get the hell out, Stiles. You're not welcome here.”

Chris must have been lurking closer than Allison thought. It was then that he choose to show up and take control away from Allison. Always taking control away like she was a child that couldn't handle it. Weren't the women supposed to be in charge around here? Where were all of these supposedly powerful women?

Chris said, “Allison, there is no need to talk to them like this. Sheriff Jed. _Stiles_. We shouldn't have this conversation here. We have meeting rooms in the back. Care to follow me?”

Jed, _so that's what his name is_ , said, “Yes.”

Chris said, “Allison, please help Stiles get a free lesson from Marge while the Sheriff and I have a discussion.”

Allison was furious, but tried to hide her emotions as she spoke, “Fine. Stiles. This way.”

Their fathers left. They got halfway to the front counter before Stiles started talking. Always talking. Always annoying. God, how could she have ever had a good opinion of him?

“Scott still talks about you like he wants to be together.”

“Don't. Just. Don't.”

“Derek was just trying to save Scott from your Mom. She was trying to kill Scott and she got bitten in the chaos of a room full of aerosol wolfsbane.”

Ice crawled through her spine and all over her body.

_Mom tried to kill Scott? No. She wouldn't..._

She found herself running out of the room as tears streamed down her face. She felt sick. She left the shooting range behind. She ran until she could duck behind a shed and sit there and cry.

_Why do I come apart so easily? Why would Mom kill Scott? Why does this pain keep happening? Oh god. I thought I was stronger than this. I thought I had finally found some strength._

Stiles's idiotic voice was once again talking to her. She hadn't run that far. He probably heard her crying.

“I'm sorry. Allison. I didn't mean to-”

“Shut up, Stiles. My world has turned upside down a dozen times already. Why didn't my dad say anything? You're lying to me. You have to be. But why would you lie about that?”

“I'm sorry. I'm always talking and I didn't know if you knew why that happened. I don't know why it was a good idea to say anything. I'm sorry about your mom. Scott still loves you.”

Allison started laughing, “Oh my god. For some reason I love him too, but no. I won't ever be that person again. I can't. I won't.” Allison found her strength. She stood up and spoke calmly, “Stiles. Don't tell Scott that. I'm not ready. He's in the same pack as Derek and I'm not sure if I ever saw Derek again, I wouldn't just shoot him on the spot.”

Stiles's mood shifted to anger, “Don't. Then I'd have to make you an enemy and I don't want to do that to Scott.”

“What the fuck, Stiles. Derek killed my mother. He bit her. I can never forgive him for that, no matter his reason.”

“Derek did NOT kill your mother. ”

“She died because of the bite.”

“The coroner report lists suicide by knife to the heart. I know, I checked! She died days after Derek bit her. A death from the bite happens within hours. She died on the night of the full moon. She was going to shift and she killed herself instead of living as a wolf.”

“Exactly, Stiles. My mother was dead the second she was bitten. What was left was a cocoon waiting to hatch with my mother's memories and enough sense to kill herself so we didn't have to. They're monsters! Even Scott is a monster! A decent monster, but still a monster. He isn't the same person you grew up with, but he was always a monster from the second I met him.”

Stiles was silent for ten seconds, then flailing as he spoke, “Holy shit. You're a bigot, and well on your way to becoming another Kate or Gerard! Get over that shit or we're all going to die to the alphas.”

Allison didn't speak. Stiles walked away.

Half an hour later she went back into the front office of the shooting range. Chris was still in a meeting room talking to the Sheriff. Someone else was at the front counter besides the owner, Old Marge. Allison did not know him by name, but she nodded anyway. He was a hunter, too. Allison found 70 year old Marge in the gallery, standing by Stiles and directing him how to use a handgun.

Allison watched from around a corner as he emptied a round into a target. When the target came back Marge was smiling like something special had happened. Allison didn't see the target, but she did overhear Marge say '100% accuracy with a handgun, and a first timer too! Ever used a rifle before?' and Allison's heart sunk.

Chris and Jed found Allison sitting on a bench in the front room.

The Sheriff said, “Where's Stiles?”

“Oh. Um. Shooting with Old Marge,” Allison waved a hand towards the shooting gallery.

Marge and Stiles walked into the front office.

Marge started talking before any of them, “Oh, Sheriff! I've never seen someone as gifted as your son is. Right off the bat, too. He says it's all those video games, but _I know_ an actual gun is different. He's special! It took him a little bit, but 100% accuracy came soon enough. Handguns, rifles, all great! You two should think about the father/son tourney in July. I have openings available. It would do good for your re-election.”

Jed looked proud, “Thank you, Marge. I'll have to consider that.” Jed looked to Chris then back to Marge, “How long have you owned this place? How far are you involved in all this stuff that is happening?”

Marge's tone shifted to cautious. She looked towards Chris who simply nodded.

“30 years.” She stood up a bit straighter and was a bit more forceful of tone, “I don't do any hunting and haven't for 35 years. I'm strictly a trainer and coordinator and that is as far as I go. The Argents are the hunting family around here, now. If you're wondering if I plan to do more because of this event, the answer is no. I'm not risking my neck for a bunch of monsters. But if they come here, any of them, I'll be ready for 'em. If that's all, I have inventory to check.”

Jed said, “Yeah. That's all.”

Old Marge walked away.

The Sheriff turned towards Stiles, “100% accuracy, huh? How did that happen?”

Stiles said, “Video games can be very instructive. Marge is a good teacher, too. Quality education, right there. ...We don't have to stay, do we?”

Chris said, “You don't have to, but you should. We've already had threats from them. They've made it very clear what will happen if we don't play along.”

Allison spat out, “ _Dad!_ Should we be talking like that out here?”

Chris gave Allison a side-eye, then spoke to Stiles, “If you want to talk about this now, Stiles, we can. You're still _you_ , right? I can trust you that much as a go-between for your pack.”

Stiles got huffy, “Yeah. Sure. We can talk. I can't speak for everyone, but I'm sure they'd like it if we did talk.”

Allison and Jed spoke at the same time, “I'm coming too.”

Stiles said, “Of course you are.”

Back behind the privacy of a closed door, Stiles started talking first.

“What is up with you guys thinking wolves aren't people? That there is something inherently wrong with them that makes them less than human and so easy to kill whenever you feel like it?”

Chris said, “Because they aren't in control of themselves anymore.”

Stiles harrumphed, “ _That's all_?”

“They're killers waiting to happen. You want more reasons? Look in the bestiary that you stole. I know most of them are victims so I'm lenient with those. But the second they step out of line and give into their nature? They deserve to die. The same goes for any human that kills another. But we already have a system to deal with human killers. We Hunters strictly take care of the supernatural side of life.”

Jed said, “So, you support the death penalty? And your sister got what she deserved?”

Stiles added, “Victoria too? She tried to kill Scott and got bitten instead.”

Allison reacted. The familiar knife on her back weighed nothing once in her hands. Stiles reacted too, catching her arm and twisting and pinning her to the ground. The knife clattered away, hurting no one.

Chris and Jed's eyes went wide as the second long scene played out before them.

Allison yelled, “Mom didn't deserve anything! Get off of me, Asshole!”

Stiles said, “You just tried to kill me! For talking! I'm not letting you up.”

Chris spoke, cool and calculated, “Allison. That was uncalled for. If you cannot keep your temper from flaring due to words, I will not allow you to be a hunter. I will blacklist you on the network. Apologize right now.”

Jed's voice was just as deadly, “I should arrest you. If you had hurt my son I would not be talking. There would be blood and I would claim temporary insanity.”

Allison held back her tears and said, “Fine. I'm sorry. Now let me up, dammit.”

Stiles let go and backed away, keeping himself between Allison and her knife.

Chris said, “Are we better, now?”

Allison spat out, “Yes.”

Chris said, “In answer to your question: I do support the death penalty. Wholeheartedly. But the details of my feelings on the deaths of my family members are not going to be discussed here, or with you. I hope you can respect that. If we're done with the philosophy, what are your plans for defense and offense?”

Stiles said, “Look, Buddy. Asshole Hunter. You've threatened my life and the lives of my friends multiple times while we haven't done a single thing to deserve your hate. The Hales have lived in this town since the gold rush and they never hurt anyone. Everything that happened to you and your's was them and us reflecting your hatred right back at'cha. So yeah. Not discussing things crucial to our survival until there is a bit more trust, here. You figure out how we're not a just a bunch of monsters, then we'll talk. We're leaving, Dad.”

Jed said, “Fine by me.”

They left the room. Allison sat in a nearby chair and rubbed her arm that Stiles used to pin her to the ground. Chris glared at the door, then at Allison.

Allison spat out, “ _What_.”

Chris said, “That was monumentally stupid. This is going to take some time to fix. Time we might not have. The alphas could attack when ever they want.”

“Tell me you don't think our family deserved to die. Mom didn't deserve it.”

Chris sighed, “... Kate brought it on herself. Dad drew the line just as hard as I do, but that line was between himself and anything beneath him. He went crazy from fear near the end. Monsters were always beneath him until he was dying of cancer. He had no problem killing the innocent monsters to prevent them from becoming murderers. I can't tell you if it was right, but it was a way to live. A way that ensured humans stayed human and the darkness was kept at bay. Victoria thought the same way. She didn't deserve what she got, but she knew what she might someday do and took her life to prevent that. She killed the monster she would become. She was a strong woman. The strongest woman I have ever known. A part of me would have been fine with her being a wolf. But she would never do that. She would never want to lose control.

“You have to control yourself better, Allison. Don't end up like Kate. You don't even have to be like your Mom. I don't know if anyone could ever be as strong as she was. But you do need to learn discipline before you spiral out control and end up killing someone that doesn't deserve it.”

The pain was too much. Tears started rolling down her face. Uncontrollable sobs started coming. And then her father was sitting beside her. Holding her as she cried into his chest.

“It'll be okay. Let it all out. It'll be okay.”


	18. Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes back to the pack and other assorted events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all fluff.
> 
> More non-fluff stuff later. But for now it's a feel-good sort of day.
> 
> Un-beta'd as always. Sorry for the typos if you find any. If you don't find any then I am not sorry.

It wasn't until well after they had gotten in the car and drove away that the adrenaline wore off. They drove in silence, Jed driving while Stiles slightly started to shake as they made their way home. Jed reached over and put a hand over Stiles's. Stiles flipped his grip and grabbed his father's hand.

Jed said, “You're okay now. Nothing happened.”

Stiles breathed in and out trying to calm himself.

Jed said, “How did you do that?”

And Stiles started vomiting words, “I can do magic, you see. I have this bracelet that gives me the ability to function on the same level as those in a group that I introduce myself to. The bracelet is not actually magical. I can just channel power through it. Marge knows a lot. I shook hands with her and got all sorts of confidence and ability. How long has Marge been retired? Oh god. Allison actually -for reals- tried to kill me. And I threw her to the ground like it was nothing. But we need the Argents to have a good fighting chance. And I was shooting and doing well. And then Chris was an asshole again. He threatened my life on multiple occasions this past year. Scott's too. All of our lives. He isn't a very good man but he is the best adult out of their family. He doesn't kill people unless they kill others. Oh wait. He calls them monsters because he can't actually see them as people. Or it's not that he can't see them as people, but that he really believes that they really aren't people. Oh my god. Ho-”

Jed interrupted him, “Stiles. You're okay. Breath. In. Out. Breath.”

Stiles gripped his father's hand tight. He tried to breath but it was getting harder and harder.

He closed his eyes and thought calming thoughts.

_Derek. Fields of flowers. Mom. Dad. Scott and me playing some game. Derek. Sleeping with Derek. Holding him tight. I'm going to fuck that tight ass of his some day. Some day soon._

Stiles breathed in and out and opened his eyes. He laughed a little nervous laugh.

“Okay. I'm better. Wow. Not going in there again. The Argents can go fuck themselves on a tree. But we do kinda need them. So maybe they can just get a lot of splinters and not actually be impaled. Please don't ever mention what happened today. It would put our relations far behind where they need to be.”

Jed sighed, “I won't. Are you better now?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“So you're... What? A wizard? Alan is your teacher?”

Stiles laughed and released his father's hand, “Oh my god no. Wizards are few and far between. I'm just a channeller. Alan is like a near-wizard. Sorry. I guess that was a discussion we should have had before now.”

“It would be nice to know my son is not just some puny human. It would be nice to know that you're more than capable of self defense.”

Jed was smiling like he was the proudest father on the planet. Then he started giggling.

Stiles said, “Are you _giggling_?”

“I am just damn proud of you, Son. Damn proud. Want to go to one of those fancy places for dinner?”

Stiles smiled, “I'd rather have, like, Applebee's. Or something simple.”

“Applebee's it is!”

“It's barely 5:00”

“... Got anything else you'd like to do for an hour, then?”

“Can Derek come to dinner?”

Jed was still smiling, “No way! This is you-and-me time. I'm not watching you two make faces at each other in a public place. Don't let me hear anything through the grapevine about you two PDAing in a restaurant either. He's grilling steaks tomorrow. We can eat together then.”

“... I need some clothes. To the mall?”

“The mall is an hour outside of town. Won't they take that as an act of running?”

“Phhpbt, no. We're just clothes shopping. Besides, they can hear us all the time. They're listening right now and one of them will probably follow us to the mall to listen there. I think they like to listen. It's like Alan said, they're bloodthirsty, but not stupidly bloodthirsty. Killing us alone out there won't be much sport.”

Jed swerved for half a second at Stile's revelation. Stiles gripped the dashboard for support.

“Road! Dad!”

“Holy fuck. Are you serious? They're listening all the time?”

Stiles said, “Yeah, Dad. Did I not say that before? They have like, super duper hearing they use to spy with. No concept of privacy. I think that's a trait all werewolves share.”

Jed wasn't smiling anymore, “If we don't go shopping the terrorists win, right?”

“Right!”

“... Right.”

 

When they were at one of the stores in the mall Stiles decided he wanted to replace his red hoodie for something a bit more werewolfy. Picking up a mens red leather jacket earned him a look of stark disapproval from his father.

“Stiles. I'm not buying you that. You shouldn't wear it or anything like it. It is ridiculous. On multiple levels.”

“I can only think of one level. Maybe two if I lie about the second one. I've decided I really like the irony. Is it irony? Maybe more like allusion? I don't know. Never liked English class.”

“That one reason is more than enough. We're moving on.”

Stiles left the red leather jacket on the rack. It had even been on sale for half off! Everyone had a leather jacket besides him. Even Lydia had one. That one was her's to begin with, but still...

It was getting embarrassing to be the only one outside of leather.

Maybe Derek would get him one too?

 

Dinner was a normal affair. Stiles ordered a burger and curly fries. Jed ordered the same thing but Stiles reminded him about his diet, and that he should be ordering a salad. They had good salads after all. It's not like Stiles was forcing him to eat rabbit food.

And now that he thought about it: Rabbits eat their own poo. So yeah, Stiles would never force his father to eat rabbit food. Salads weren't rabbit food. Or, they were only 50% of the full spectrum of what constituted as rabbit food. Not _really_ rabbit food if you thought about it a certain, probably incorrect, way.

Jed said, “I didn't disturb you this morning. Let me have my burger and fries.”

Stiles said, “Well fine then! Just throw your health out the window! You could at least switch the fries for a side salad.”

Jed spoke to their waitress, “Fine. A side salad instead of fries, but I'm eating some of your's. Ranch dressing.”

Stiles said, “And something besides ranch.”

“Fine. Honey mustard.”

The waitress smiled, “Sure thing.”

 

It was 10:00pm by the time they made it home. Jed called it a night but Stiles was still wired. Bored with his computer Stiles decided to text Derek and Scott. One of them would probably have their phone on them.

'Are you still training at the house?'

Five minutes later, Scott replied: 'Y, u want 2 come?'

'Yes. I'll be there in 20.'

'K. We r here all night.'

Stiles caught his dad nodding off on the sofa with the TV on and some infomercial blaring away.

“Dad, I'm going to the Hale House, okay?”

Jed opened his eyes, “Wh... Okay. I'm going to bed,” Jed got up and turned off the TV, “Don't wake me up when you get home and don't be too late.”

Stiles said, “I won't. Night, Dad.”

 

The unlit road up to the Hale House was bright with moonlight. The full moon was on Monday, but everyone in the pack should be feeling the increased effects of the full moon cycle by now. Stiles wondered how Danny was taking his first full moon cycle. Probably the same way he took everything, peacefully but with a bit of annoyance.

Stiles jangled the bracelet on his wrist as he rounded the last bend to the house. The bright glow of a bonfire up ahead colored the trees in oranges and yellow.

_I want to run with them. I probably can, too. Not shift. But at least run as fast. Eh, but Derek will probably want to lock Danny up for his first time. Everyone will be on lockdown. Bah._

Stiles hopped out of his jeep and made a path around the house and toward the fire. The house had a few more support beams than it had yesterday, but the molds for the fresh concrete pour were still there. Around the corner, Stiles found Peter drinking a beer as he sat in a chair away from the fire.

Peter didn't look his way as he said, “Back so soon, Der-” Peter turned his head to see Stiles before shooting to his feet and smiling. “Stiles. That was your jeep just now. Of course. Not Derek. You smell similar. Everyone can smell it. My little nephew has become a man again. You missed a whole lot of congratulatory pats on the back. Figurative pats, anyway. You're the only one he would enjoy touching him.” Peter sniffed the air, smiled more, and moved a bit closer. “Don't hurt him. He _really_ can't handle that again.”

Stiles blushed as Peter kept talking.

Eventually, Stiles crackled out, “I... I won't hurt him.”

Peter's tone might have been playful but it had the edge of a threat, “Remember that when you think of caving to Morgan.”

Stiles lost his embarrassment, “I'm not caving to anyone. Drink your beer and sit back down.”

Peter reached into the cooler and tossed Stiles a beer. His voice was back to sassy-happy.

“Catch!”

Stiles expertly caught the beer. Remnants of his bracelet link to Derek and Old Marge? A cold wet beer would normally have slipped through his fingers.

“Thanks?”

Stiles popped the lid and took a sip.

Peter chuckled, “At least Derek has good taste. You're an _excellent_ _catcher_.”

Stiles spat out the beer.

Peter laughed, “But you can't _swallow_ yet? He is the alpha, so I suppose there is a lot. You two should work on that.”

“ _Oh my god. Dirty old man. Oh my god._ ”

Peter cackled into the night air. Stiles quickly walked away into the shadows on the other side of the house and tried to let his embarrassment die down. Laughter echoed from the fire pit. Stiles downed the beer before the laughter stopped.

A pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared in the darkness far in front of Stiles.

Stiles said, “Scott?”

Whoever it was took off directly away from Stiles. Stiles stood up and took a step forward.

“I'm not sure I like this training when I'm not ready for it...”

Stiles took out his phone and speed-dialed Scott. From the darkness ahead came a ringing, fumbling, and cursing. Stiles laughed.

Stiles said. “Got you! What're you trying to do? Sca-”

From behind, a clawed hand grabbed his neck and held tight. Four other hands grabbed his upper arms and feet. Stiles instinctively tried to activate his belt, but he had left that at home. All he had was the bracelet.

So he grabbed the hand at his neck and tried to connect. In an angry flash of white he crunched the hand at his neck, spun out of the grips on his body, and earned himself superficial slashes. He jumped ten yards away to land on his feet.

Jackson shook out his hand and held it against his chest.

Jackson cursed, “My hand! You asshole!”

Danny was there too, he said, “You've had worse than that tonight. You'll be fine. Want me to kiss it and make it all better?”

Erica said, “I was told to expect to go flying. I have no problem getting off easy.”

Boyd, Isaac, and Scott were now easily visible in the darkness of the woods through Stiles's were-eyes. They moved towards Stiles. Scott moved a bit faster than the rest. Concern was written all over his face.

Stiles tried to calm his breathing, “I really wasn't ready.”

Scott said, “Dude! Are you okay? I smell blood.”

Erica looked at her claws and started walking a bit faster towards Stiles, “Oh. Oh. Are you okay, Stiles? I'm sorry. Oh my god. Are you okay?”

Stiles checked himself. His wounds were indeed healing, but not nearly as fast as last night. His nails were a bit sharper, but not as sharp as they were last night. Connecting with Jackson was possible but not as clear as it was with Derek. He must be getting better at this sort of thing.

Stiles said, “I'll be fine as soon as my heart stops threatening to burst from my chest.” Stiles held up an arm and pulled back his slightly shredded red hoodie, “See? Already closing. A bit slow though. Good thing I went clothes shopping today.”

Erica said, “How did you jump like that? How are you healing?”

“Magic trick. Where is Derek?”

Erica said, “Oh. Well. I'm still sorry. Totally didn't mean to. Derek _was_ here... this whole thing was his idea. He said you'd be joining us soon. He wanted to see how you'd react if you weren't ready for it. Are you really okay?”

“I'll be fine.” Stiles paused, breathed, and relaxed, “Yeah. I want to join you guys. I think I have some spare workout clothes in my jeep. Sorry about your hand, Jackson.”

Jackson's glares weren't as strong as they used to be. The hint of a grin was too much to make him look very fierce.

“It's fine. Already had a leg broken tonight. Danny is a mean kicker.”

Isaac said, “Good thinking with the phone. Scott never goes anywhere without it.”

Stiles said, “I thought it was Scott. All of your eyes are slightly different shades. Say, are my eyes glowing right now?”

Jackson said, “Nope. Should they be?”

Scott smiled and changed the subject, “Dude! You were supposed to call me when you lost your virgin card!”

Stiles spat out, “Oh my god, Scott. Have you lost all concepts of privacy?”

Stiles looked around. Everyone stared at him while Scott talked about his former virginity. Boyd, Erica, and Isaac smiled and walked away towards the fire pit. Stiles heard Peter's voice all the way from where he was, still sitting in the warmth of the fire.

Peter laughed, “You can probably hear and smell the grasshoppers fucking if you try. Privacy is a respectful concept for closed doors, but everyone can still hear and smell what's happening.”

If Scott's smile got any larger, Stiles was going to have to smack it off of him.

Scott said, “What? We're a pack. I'm happy for you, man! I'd be happy for you no matter what, but still... Like Peter said: We can smell it on you.”

Stiles tried smelling himself. Instead he smelled something like arousal coming off of Danny. When Stiles glared at Danny, Jackson smiled and elbowed Danny in the side. Danny looked sheepish.

Danny said, “What? I have hormones that act up and Derek is totally fuckable. Besides that: We've all been skinny dipping in the lake. How are you still walking?... Oh right. Magical healing. That explains that.”

While Stiles was busy being mortified, Jackson sniffed the air and said, “How many times did you two screw? I can tell you've had a bath or two... But, it's like Derek is a part of your scent now. You must have done it like, a dozen times. Or more.”

“Oh my god... I'll be right back after I finish dying over by my jeep.”

Stiles turned around and went to his jeep. His three hecklers went to the fire pit.

He changed into some workout clothes. The night air was a bit chilly when he left the house, that was why he put on the hoodie, but now he felt perfectly comfortable wearing shorts and a tank top. In those few seconds when he was solely in his underwear, he was still fine with the night air.

_Everyone goes skinny dipping together? Do they run around naked on the full moon too?_

Stiles felt all sorts of self conscious and quickly put his clothes on.

He spoke to no one in particular on his way to the fire. Everyone could still hear him.

“You're all as horrible as I am. I feel right at home.”

Laughter carried on the air.

A short walk later and Stiles took a seat beside Scott, “Where's Derek?”

Scott said, “He _was_ here. I'm not sure about right now.”

Erica said, “He's probably scared of getting teased like Stiles. We already had our fun but we can always have more. It's time to break out that nickname.”

Stiles objected, “No! He can never know I told anyone.”

Danny said, “I'm going to say something.”

Jackson said, “If you don't, I will.”

Derek appeared from the darkness with a scowl and a frown, “What nickname?”

Stiles startled then jumped up and walked towards Derek.

Stiles said, “Were you trying to scare me, too? What is this? National give-Stiles-a-death-scare day? How come I couldn't hear you?”

Peter said, “Derek is practicing stealth. Morgan insulted his ability as an alpha on Friday.”

Derek cut off that line of conversation, “What nickname?”

Erica smiled and said, “Oy! Miguel! Looks like your charms worked on Stiles instead of Danny.”

Danny said, “Miguel is nice to look at but too much of a top for me. But good job, Stiles! Good job, Miguel!”

The only ones that didn't laugh were Peter, Derek, Isaac, and Stiles. Stiles cringed while Derek huffed and glared, his eyes tinting red. But just like Jackson's glare earlier, Derek's was a fake glare attempting to cover a smile.

Isaac said, “What? What's happening?”

Peter said, “I'd like to know, too.”

Derek said, “I can't believe you told them.”

Stiles said, “Danny brought it up!”

Danny said, “Don't blame me! You're the one that used Miguel for his body.”

Erica gasped, “Oh! Now I know why I felt so horny last night! You two did it around 4 am, didn't you?”

Jackson said, “Glad to know I wasn't the only one going into heat. I woke up at 4 with a hardon that wouldn't go away. Lydia told me to take care of it myself.”

Peter said, “Those were a few intense hours, weren't they?”

Boyd laughed and reached over to hold Erica's hand, “I know, right? Not that I'm complaining.”

Isaac said, “You all are going to have to explain the Miguel-thing better than that.”

Stiles said, _“Oh my god.”_

Erica started cackling. Boyd and Jackson laughed. Scott, Isaac, Peter, and Danny smiled.

Derek huffed and grabbed himself a beer. Stiles grabbed one too. In a moment of rapid confusion caused by Derek, Derek was sitting down with Stiles sitting between his legs. Stiles was completely fine with the arrangement. He was also more than a little happy that Derek was the one that initiated their current positions.

He wrapped a hand around Derek's knee and squeezed. Derek involuntarily laughed.

Stiles said, “Oh my god. You're ticklish!”

Derek growled into Stiles's neck.

Jackson pulled out his phone, “I'm calling Lydia. Berica and Sterek are making me feel lonely.”

Boyd said, “What's a 'Sterek'?”

Jackson said, “Ask Danny. He's the fan fiction writer.”

Boyd said, “What's 'fan fiction'?”

Jackson said, “Word porn.”

Danny said, “Not all of it is porn!”

Jackson said, “Everything you write is.”

Stiles leaned back and kissed Derek as he squeezed Derek's knee.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments and kudos!
> 
>  


	19. Lydia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia joins the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. This chapter just wouldn't come.

Lydia was still awake and sifting through dozens of horticultural, biological, and occult herbology books on her bed when she got a text from Jackson. It was 11:00 pm and she was already in her nightclothes.

'Everyone is here. I'd like you to be here too. Can I come pick you up?'

Lydia collapsed on her bed and grunted, “Do I have to? Ugh. Fine.”

She sat up again and called him. It rang three times before he answered. Obviously, he was unsure what to do with an actual call in response to a text. She could hear people gasping on the other side of the phone with reactions ranging from 'Jax is in looooove' to 'When are you two getting married?'

Jackson spoke tentatively, “Hello?”

Lydia sighed, “I'm three steps from bed. Do you really want me out there?”

Lydia was sure he heard Erica's voice say something like 'Lydia must have a headache. No fun for Jackson tonight!'

Jackson said, “... Yeah, I want you. Stiles and Derek are making out. It's too much for the rest of us.”

Lydia shot to her feet. Now there were all sorts of reasons for her to go out.

“I need to make some coffee so give me 30 minutes. I don't want to stay past 3:00am.”

There were a few catcalls on the other side of the phone. Lydia smiled to herself.

Jackson said, “I'll pick you up, then?”

Lydia said, “Yeah. I love it when you drive.”

“Love you.”

Jackson ended the phone call as the catcalls got louder. Lydia rushed downstairs and nearly knocked into her father.

“Oof. Hey Dad. I'm going with Jackson for a while. Might spend the night over there.”

“Hmmmm... You two're using protection, right? You're too bright to end up pregnant at 16. You have MIT to think about.”

“Daaaad... Of course we're using protection. I need to make some coffee. Are you heading to bed?”

Her father smiled, “Your Mother is already asleep. Text us if you're spending the night over there.”

“Yes, Father.”

Thirty minutes later Lydia was dressed in comfortable clothes with her overnight bag and a full thermos sitting on the kitchen table. She sat down for good view of the driveway and finished off a cup of coffee. She looked out the window again and tapped her foot against the tile floor. When she still didn't see the porsche, she opened her bag and pulled out a large pill box.

One of her activities today was to get a large three by seven pill box, get various seeds from various things, and then organize it so she could easily pick out a specific seed when she wanted it. Roses were in the first few boxes. A few vine seeds were in the next few boxes. Then a lot of wildflowers just to fill up the space and to experiment with. All of those seeds were easy enough to get from the local hardware store.

Other seeds were arriving in the mail. Venus flytraps. Mountain ash seeds. Oak acorns. Even a few redwood seeds and willow tree seeds, just because she liked them. The idea of sitting below a full grown willow tree by the lake near the Hale House was delightful. As soon as the thought crossed Lydia's mind, she knew it was only a matter of time before the idea became reality.

Derek was just going to have to get used to the idea of Lydia growing a bunch of trees and rose gardens everywhere. Everything out by the Hale House was entirely too dreary and ugly and Lydia was not going to have that as her future home. Not going to happen.

Lydia wasn't quite sure if she wanted to experiment with wolfsbane or any of the thousands of other deadly plants out there. Maybe later, after she had learned how to do this growing-magic much better.

She tingled with anticipation as Jackson's porsche finally pulled into the driveway. Stuffing the pillbox back into her bag and grabbing the thermos, she headed out the front door and hoped in the car. They were off to the Hale House within moments.

Jackson smiled, “Hello there, Sexy.”

Something clicked in Lydia's mind, “Stiles and Derek. When did they have sex?”

Jackson laughed, “4:00 am.”

Lydia smiled and cheered, “I knew it! But...” Lydia paused, “What's the matter with Derek? Can't he keep his emotions from spilling out onto everyone? That's pretty damn rude.”

“We talked about retraining our anchors today. I think he is shifting his. Stiles had him all messed up last night.”

“Ah... Okay. That's good. Do you think Derek is capable of doing well at this alpha thing?”

“Dude is on a roll to make himself better. It's like he is a whole 'nother person. Months ago I wouldn't think him capable of being a leader even of himself. But now. Now he has a reason to get really good, really fast.”

“Good. Great, even.” Lydia paused, “But, how are you feeling? I know you don't like being second in line.”

“... Yeah. It's tough. But... I don't know. I'm happier than I've been in a long time. So I guess it's okay. For now.”

Lydia reached over and put her hand on Jackson's leg, “I love you.”

Jackson smiled and held Lydia's hand, “I love you, too.”

“Are they like, _really_ making out in front of everyone?”

Jackson laughed, “It's like watching Oscar the Grouch make out with a boy-toy. Derek being anything other than perpetually constipated is hard to imagine, let alone witness first hand.”

Lydia said, “I'm happy for Stiles. He deserves someone. Derek might not have been my first choice, but whatever.”

 

They arrived at the Hale House shortly before midnight. The bonfire was still going strong, still lighting up the night. They got out of the car and headed towards the group. Seeing Stiles snugged up between Derek's legs brought an impossible-to-control smile to Lydia's face. Jackson grabbed Lydia from behind and picked her up in his arms. Lydia laughed as they spun to a seated position just like Stiles's and Derek's.

Stiles huffed out, “ _Werewolves._ So possessive.”

Lydia giggled as Jackson kissed her neck, “You two are too cute.”

Derek huffed and hugged Stiles tighter.

Lydia said, “Aren't you all supposed to be training? I want to talk to Stiles about our lessons.”

Boyd said, “We're taking a break.”

Erica said, “Sit back and enjoy your man. We have beer.”

Lydia said, “I brought coffee, thanks though.”

Derek unfolded himself from Stiles and stood up, “Nope. Lydia's right. We've had our break. Back to it.”

Stiles said, “No more PDA cuddles? Now I'm all cold. Give me a hand up.”

Stiles smiled as he reached out with his right hand, his strange bracelet glinted in the firelight. Derek grinned and grabbed his hand to help him up. Stiles's eyes flared white.

Lydia said, “Something tells me you had a good lesson.”

Scott gasped, “Whoa. What is that?”

Stiles said, “A good magic lessthon put to good usthe! Owchth. What the fucth.” Stiles opened his mouth and ran his tongue along his fangs. “Huh. I got fangsth! ”

Derek said, “Jackson, Isaac, and Erica are It. Go Go Go.”

Except for Peter and Jackson the Pack took off running. Most of them laughed as they went. Jackson gave Lydia one final kiss and unwrapped himself, leaving Lydia a bit colder than she was before. Jackson ran off with a blue shine in his eyes.

Lydia looked at Peter, “You don't play Tag?”

“Not for years. Besides. I'd rather listen to you two talk about magic. I'd also like to know what is going on with Stiles's eyes... And claws and scent and fangs...”

As Lydia watched, faint wisps of tangled white light drifted away from Stiles's eyes. His fangs retreated and his claws shortened.

Stiles said. “Much better. Fangs are annoying.”

Lydia said, “I don't know whether to be jealous or happy that I got what I got. You somehow acquired were-healing along with the physical aspects? Without the Bite, I assume. You were very adamant about that. I doubt falling in love would change you that much.”

“I'm n-” Stiles paused, “Okay. Maybe I'm almost there. On the highway and it's within my sights. I'm not going to mess this up by going too fast. Might end up in a crash.”

Lydia said, “You look like you're there already.”

Stiles blushed, “Everyone can still hear you...”

Lydia said, “I'm well aware.”

Peter laughed.

 

Ten minutes later, Stiles and Lydia were walking to the swimming hole. Peter remained at the fire. It took a few minutes of Stiles walking in front and leading, but soon enough the clear night was bright enough for even Lydia's human senses. When they were halfway to the swimming hole Lydia had fully adjusted to the night and started explaining what she wanted to do.

“I'm going to turn this place into a proper forest. It's spring but there are no flowers anywhere. The trees still look dead. And they look sickly, too. Everything needs to be a bit better around here and I'm going to make it so.”

“Can you really do that? That seems a bit like the deep end of this stuff.”

Lydia smiled, “I love the deep end. The deeper the better.”

“Alan said that limits are good. A defined spell is better than one that cascades, isn't it?”

Lydia thought for a moment, “You're probably right. For now.” Lydia pulled out her pillbox of seeds as they walked, “Have any preferences? All I have are roses, various vines, and wildflowers, so far. I have a few trees and other things on order. One thing I know that I'm doing is growing a weeping willow by the water's edge.”

“Are you sure willows aren't like mountain ash? I got the impression from Alan that a lot of those weird trees are significant.”

“Hmm... Maybe. Anyway, pick something.”

“Bright red roses. How about here in this clearing?” They stopped walking. Stiles kept talking, “But... then again... Every place here is like a clearing. This place does seem kinda dead for being in the middle of spring, doesn't it? These trees should be full green. I'm gonna need to ask Alan about that. Unless you already have a theory floating in your head. Did you really learn how to be Poison Ivy?”

Lydia paused and looked around. It _was_ weird that this place was perpetually Fall. It didn't make much sense. She would have to ask Monica about this. In the mean time, this was as good a spot as any. She stuck a finger into the soil and decided it was damp enough to support growth. She dug around in her pillbox and picked out a rose seed.

“This is a decent spot. Who's Poison Ivy?”

“Batman villain, sometimes heroine. Half toxic-plant half crazed-ecologist. Likes fast-growth tentacle plants that strangle her victims or hold them tight.”

Lydia chuckled, “Nope. Nothing like that at all.”

Lydia knelt with her knees splayed on the ground and concentrated as she dug through the soil. She cleared away dead leaves and created a mound of earth with her hands.

Stiles said, “If you can really grow things I'm going to be so jealous. I've been keeping my mother's flower bed alive for a long time but this would be so much easier. Do you even like plants? I always pegged you as a people person.”

“Stiles... Please. I'm trying to concentrate. Hold your questions for later. I have some for you, too.”

“Bu-”

“Shhh! ”

When Stiles went silent Lydia finally found a moment in which to let the power flow. She carefully poked the seed into the ground and teased forward a small green stem. As the rose vine crawled forth from the earth Lydia gracefully stood. She teased the vine upward with flicks of her fingers until it was large enough to curl in on itself.

Fractal patterns emerged from organizations of tiny vines and bright green leaves as Lydia coaxed the rose vine into an expanding circle. Silver gray moonlight shimmered on the thornless plant as Lydia pulled the growth upward into a large and perfect hemisphere. In a shower of sparks of darkness, brilliant red roses opened up all atop the rose bush. Lydia stepped back to admire her work.

Peter said, “I knew you had it in you.”

Stiles hissed at the intruder. Lydia controlled her fear response and turned towards Peter's voice.

Lydia said, “A hiss, Stiles?”

Stiles slapped his hands over his mouth, “I don't know where that came from.”

Lydia said, “Why did you choose to follow us when we specifically left you behind? Why announce yourself so harshly?”

Peter said, “I'll give you a moment if you want to think about it. Surely I don't need to answer when you already know the reasons.”

Lydia said, “Indulge me, please.”

“Mainly, I'm keeping an eye on my nephew's boyfriend. Seeing you do that was a bonus that I simply had to compliment.”

Lydia narrowed her eyes at Peter, “You knew me being able to grow things was going to happen eventually. How?”

Peter grinned, “How do you think you got all those special wolfsbane flowers for the punch at your party, and to control Derek for my resurrection? Knowing you, having all of this revealed to you would make you go back and check on things like that. I could have stolen a random strangers credit card and ordered them through the mail, but you'll just have to trust me that that didn't happen. Remember that time I handed you a blue flower while I was just a rider in your mind? That happened a lot more than once in order for you to get it right. I'm really glad all this knowledge stuck.”

Breathing was slightly harder. A cold terror sweat broke along her forehead. Lydia almost panicked, but remembered the first lesson she had yesterday. She controlled herself once again.

Stiles side-stepped towards Lydia, “Are you okay? Wolfsbane in the punch? What is he talking about?”

Lydia said, “I'll talk about it later and you can tell me how your first time with Derek was. Deal?”

“Oh my god. No.” Stiles paused, “Probably not. Would you actually want to know? What I am saying. No one is ever hearing that story. Ever.”

Lydia said, “So you know some things, Peter?”

Peter said, “I know a lot that I can't actually use. It's one of the downsides to being a werewolf. Though, it was pretty amazing to bring forth all that life when I was a part of you. I hope that someday you can forgive me for the intrusion. I was only trying to survive.”

“Teach me more and all is forgiven.”

Stiles said, “Lydia! You can't be serious.”

Lydia turned towards Stiles, “He's Pack. We're not going to kill him, so I would rather have trust than terror.”

Peter grinned, “I would love to teach you, Lydia. Have any burning questions?”

Lydia returned his grin with one of her own, “For starters: What do you know about weeping willow trees? I want to grow one by the swimming hole.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is going to be a large time-skip coming up soon. 
> 
> Also: Death and violence looms ahead! Someone is going to die! Probably more than one person. 
> 
> We'll see what happens.


	20. Jed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violence ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have messed up some police procedure.  
> Also: My eyes are starting to cross from attempting to edit this thing over and over, so there are probably a few mistakes.  
> ...please forgive me.

It was unrealistic to expect nothing to happen between now and that Saturday night at midnight, August 13th, still four full moons away. That date and time when the alpha pack decided was good enough for the Hale pack to give them a decent fight. Something was, of course, going to happen before then. Either them attacking sooner because they were impatient sadists, or something else was going to bust loose under all this pressure to perform.

Sunday dinner was supposed to be a nice time for Jed to officially meet his son's boyfriend in a setting that wasn't rife with threats of violence. In light of recent events, getting over the age difference between them was really not that big of a deal. Jed would love it, love it beyond words, if the age difference was the only thing wrong with the situation. Werewolves, magic, threats of war, small drops of blood on the carpet with no one claiming responsibility...

Whatever. He had gotten over all of that in a time frame that surprised even him.

When Derek threw the steaks on the grill and Jed popped open a beer, he was ready for a good and awkward night of getting to know both the person and alpha werewolf his son was dating. But then his work phone rang and he knew tonight wasn't going to be that simple.

Stiles's eyes went wide, “Don't ans... Nevermind.”

Jed got up, sighed, and took his phone out of his pocket, “They wouldn't call unless it was important.” Jed answered the phone, “Stilinski speaking.”

Mary answered, “Triple 187 by the library. Sorry about your night off, Sheriff.”

Jed sighed, “Any confirmed identities?”

Mary said, “Umm... You should just get down here. This is... messy.”

“On my way.” Jed ended the phone call.

Stiles said, “What is it? Bodies? Homicide?”

Jed said, “Derek. You heard it all, didn't you?”

If it was possible for that brooding man that his son had somehow fallen in love with to look like a sheep instead of a wolf, he was doing an excellent job of it right now.

Derek said, “Yes. Sir.”

“It seems like homicide doesn't happen in this town unless something supernatural is involved. I suggest, when Stiles forces your group to investigate this as soon as I leave, that you remain respectful of the police and my job and remain out of sight.”

Stiles perked up, “Bodies! How many? Where? Yes, we have to go. We'll keep far away. I promise.”

Jed sighed, resigned himself to his son's predilection for bloody murder scenes, and went to change. A minute later, when he came back to the living room, Stiles had already cleaned up the kitchen and Derek had put the grill away. Jed left the house with a farewell nod to Derek and Stiles.

He turned on his cruiser and checked the scanner. The thing didn't work. He left anyway and called the station from his work phone. Mary answered.

“Sheriff?”

“Who else is on scene?”

“Isn't your scanner working?”

“Nope. Tell me what it looks like.”

“Ah, well. Two officers on the scene, Lily and Kevin. I'm getting reports that it might be a ritual kill. Three bodies. Struggle marks in the blood trails indicate they were still alive when they were pulled around in a funky triangle pattern. Lily thinks that it looks neo-nazi-ish. The library closed at noon so this had to have happened afterward. Kevin is guessing around 1 or 2. The janitor called 911 fifteen minutes ago at 5:45. Is that all, Sheriff?”

“No signs that the killers are still there?”

“I'm not hearing anything on the radio. Kevin and Lily are looking around, but so far haven't found anything.”

“Thanks, Mary. I'll be there in 10.”

Jed ended the call and looked in the rearview mirror. Stiles's jeep was doing a horrible job of staying out of sight. Jed would need to teach him the finer points of tailing someone at a later date. Jed decided to call Stiles to taunt him.

Stiles answered the phone after seven rings, “Uhh...”

“You're really bad at trailing people.”

The jeep stopped and passed out of his rearview mirror.

“Okay fine. I'm not good at this yet. But I did manage to pick up two more people in less than a second. Did you notice that? I'm all ready for high speed chases.”

“Scott and Isaac?”

“How did you- Are you going to fill me in, or just taunt me?”

“Can't I do both?”

Jed heard an unfamiliar laugh coming from his phone.

Jed asked, “Was that Derek just now? Wait. Never mind. What are you getting on your radio?”

“I-don't-have-a-police-scanner-in-my-jeep.”

“But you have one in your room and you probably brought it with you, didn't you?”

“...I'm not getting anything on it. Silence.”

“...It's working though, right?”

“Yeah. When I say silence, I mean more like useless information completely irrelevant to a triple homicide. That sort of thing.”

Jed thought before he spoke. Did he really want to get his son involved in all of this? Or was it more like: Should he not discuss these things with someone who was already in the loop, knowing that talking with them would only give Jed a better view of the situation, even if it was strictly against the law? Yeah... He had to break this particular law.

Through grimaced teeth, Jed said, “Does a neo-nazi-ish triangle shape mean anything to you or Derek?”

Stiles's voice turned frantic, “Oh my god! Is that there? You can't go! Dad! It's a trap!”

“That means that Mary at the station is in on it. She is the one that gave me this information.”

“You can't go! No! Please!”

“Son. Listen to me. It's my job to make sure this town is safe. I'm going. But first, I'm going to the station.”

“We're going with you.”

“N-” Jed paused to think, “... Fine.”

Jed ended the phone call. Accepting that his son was capable of meaningful contribution to a fight and investigation was a yet another world shattering revelation in a string of revelations. Nothing would ever be just a simple animal attack ever again.

The station was a bit further than the library but the two buildings were only a few streets away from one another. What was the alpha pack doing by enlisting Mary in their schemes? In order to have someone on the inside was the easy answer. They liked to torment, tease, and torture before they killed their intended prey. Chris Argent and Alan Deaton were similar in their assessments of the alpha pack's behaviors.

But if the alpha pack could hear everything and sneak anywhere, why this particular subterfuge?

Jed pulled up to the station. Everything looked normal enough. Stiles's jeep pulled up behind him. Derek, Stiles, Scott, and Isaac hopped out.

Scott said, “Nothing smells wrong.”

Jed said, “Wait out here.”

Stiles said, “I'm going in.”

Jed furrowed his brow, put on a scowl, and said, “ _Stiles_.”

“Stop fighting me on this, Dad. It would be better for us all if we just work together.”

If his brewing headache didn't turn into a migraine, Jed would be happy.

“Fine. Stay behind me. The rest of you keep the exit open.”

Jed walked forward and into the Station. Mary was at the front desk. Jed gazed around the front room and found nothing out of the ordinary. Everything seemed normal.

Mary said, “Hello, Sheriff? Is something wrong?”

“Mary? Did you call me in for a disturbance at the library?”

Mary looked at him strangely, “No, Sheriff. Scanners have been dead all day. A minor accident on the exit ramp to the highway has a few officers tied up, but that's about it. Why are you in uniform? Didn't you have tonight off?”

Jed pulled out his phone and called the station. His phone rang, but the one sitting in front of Mary didn't. Mary's voice answered the phone while Mary stood behind the front desk doing paperwork. Front-Desk-Mary probably found it strange that Jed called someone instead of answering her questions, but she didn't say anything to indicate annoyance.

Mary-on-the-phone said, “Yes, Sheriff?”

“...I'm still on my way. Hit a bit of a hitch.”

“Sure thing, Sheriff. I'll let them know.”

Jed ended the phone call and turned towards Mary at the front desk.

“It's nothing, Mary. Just needed to grab a few things. Wait here, Stiles.”

Jed silently went through the station while Stiles waited in the front room. When he reached his office he pulled his bulletproof vest out from the closet and put it on. He grabbed a special clip that Old Marge at the shooting range had sold to him. In a minute, he was back out front and confronting his son's friends by Stiles's jeep.

Jed said to the group, “I don't know what sort of game this is. I was under the impression that the alphas could hear everything and only by their sick grace were we all not killed in our sleep. Why mess with my phone and my radio? Why this?”

Stiles said, “They like to play games. But this is too messy. If they wanted you they could have taken you. It would be that easy for them. But then again, easy is boring. Whatever this is seems rushed. You could have been on duty and responded normally at any other time, and we wouldn't be here for backup.”

Derek said, “We're going to the library and ending whatever threat is there.”

Jed said, “Agreed. Go in the back way. I'm going in the front as if nothing is strange about this.”

Stiles looked as though he was trying to grin, “This isn't my first rodeo.”

If Jed wasn't on edge, he knew he wouldn't have responded to Stiles like he did, “If I could I would throw you all in jail. Then I know you'd be safe. But if you think for a second I'm comfortable with vigilantes, let alone my Son being one, get your head out of your ass and stop being cocky. Don't take risks with your life. I know how I was at your age and I can see that same gleam in your eyes. You aren't invincible. Whoever this is feels the need to do this, which means, hopefully, that they aren't strong enough to do it otherwise. We might get useful information from this. Now stop talking and go. We're wasting a window here.”

“O... Okay. Dad.”

Stiles, Scott, and Isaac started walking away. Derek looked at Jed and nodded before taking off. Jed got back into his cruiser, loaded his gun with wolfsbane bullets, and turned the few blocks to the library.

It was around 6:30 when Jed got to the library. Two police cruisers with their lights off were sitting in front of the darkened two story building. Jed got out of his cruiser and investigated the immediate scene. He looked into the two other cruisers. Their radios had been ripped apart. The glass front door to the library was shattered. The officers were not in sight.

At this point in time he was probably supposed to call Mary as a part of their script. So he did.

“Sheriff? Is there a problem?”

“Send backup. Kevin and Lily's cruisers have been broken into.”

“Oh. Um...”

Whispering came from the other end of the line. Who were these amateurs? They could hack into the phone-line but they didn't know all about police procedure? Did they really not think that Jed would try to call for backup?

Mary said, “Backup is on its way. Are you sure Kevin and Lily aren't there? I just spoke to them. They said they were inside. Maybe some kids broke into the cruisers? I don't know...”

Jed was fed up, “Who the fuck are you? You think I'm stupid enough to go in there? Badly impersonating an officer is just one more reason for me to not believe this is Mary. She was in the 95th percentile at her academy, you dumb shits.”

“... Fuck it. You're close enough. Say your prayers, Meatbag.”

The line went dead. A roar echoed from the roof of the library as five unfamiliar people jumped down the face of the building. In the shattered glass doorway stood an old man werewolf. His hair was gray, but his eyes were bright red. Everyone else's eyes glowed bright yellow.

The old man howled, “O' from this time forth, my thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!”

A lone yellow-eye'd werewolf charged forward. Jed shot him in the face. He crumpled backward dead or dying. It was hard to tell. The rest flinched back to the old man. The beta at Jed's feet was now very dead, leaving four betas and their alpha left. The betas all had to be in their late twenties. Most of them growled as they stood there with claws out, including the old man. Some of them sliced themselves with their own claws. Half-crazed? Probably. They all looked ready for a fight.

Jed called out, “Who are you? You aren't the alpha pack.”

The old man clawed at his scalp, drawing blood, “If I kill Derek I'll end this werewolf curse. All the benefits of advanced chemotherapy and more and all it cost was time spent as a monster. I even made myself a pack to get the full experience. I'll have to kill about a hundred werewolves to make up for the people who died to the Bite. But they were trash and I'll have years to kill more werewolves.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“I don't know. I had a reason.” The old man clawed at his chest. The wounds healed as they were made, “But it's difficult to concentrate anymore. All I want to do is kill everyone. Where is Derek Hale? I've smelled him around your house but I'm not allowed to go in. Why aren't I allowed to go in? There was a reason for that, too. We'll find Stiles and kill him after we're done with you.”

Jed leveled his gun at the old man, “Haven't you ever read the Evil Overlord's List? Quoting Shakespeare? Long explanations? You've already failed and you don't even realize it.”

The old man roared, “Rip him apart!”

Jed got off three shots and missed each time. A female werewolf knocked him over and slashed at his chest. Jed shot her in the neck. Her eyes softened and dimmed as she fell over, dead. Stiles, Isaac, and Derek collided with the other three. Derek decapitated his target. Stiles and Isaac slashed the other two from neck to navel. Jed sat up in time to see Scott, eyes flaring red, standing over the corpse of the old man.

Jed gurgled blood as he tried to speak. White-eye'd Stiles stood over him as he lost consciousness.

 

He woke up in a hospital bed hours later. Stiles sat in a chair next to him with his head resting on the edge of the bed. Stiles's eyes were closed. Jed tried to speak. The words didn't come properly.

“St- Stil-.”

Stiles shot awake, “Dad! Oh my god! Don't try to move. You'd going to be fine. It hasn't been that long. It's only 1:00 am on Monday.”

“Wha-,”

“Don't try to speak. The Doctor says you'll be fine in a few days. You cracked a rib and collapsed a lung. The vest stopped her from scratching you. You have nothing to worry about besides hospital food. Oh my god, Dad.” Stiles started crying, “You're a better shot than that. How could you miss? How could you miss three times?”

An hour later, Stiles, Derek, and Melissa were in the room and talking. Jed found his voice, even if it was a bit weak.

Jed said, “I want the whole story.”

Stiles said, “Gerard is dead.”

Melissa said, “That crazy fucker that threatened Scott and I with the lizard man?”

Stiles said, “Yes.”

Melissa cheered, “Good! Couldn't have happened to a better guy.”

It felt weird seeing Melissa so happy that someone had died. Chalk one more up to the current whirlpool of insanity they were all caught up in. Jed grunted his disapproval, but doubted that anyone really caught his meaning.

And with that, Jed had begun to doubt that disapproval was even the proper response to vigilantism. At least for now, this werewolf way might be the only way.

Stiles said, “There was a police scanner, an encrypted computer, and a phone contraption set up in one of the top rooms of the library. I gave it all to Danny. He might be able to figure it out. There were three bodies and the alpha pack symbol at the library. That much was true... Kevin, Lily, and a homeless guy. But... Something else was revealed to us today. All of your officers are Hunters. Every one of them. Kevin and Lily were the only two not in the loop.”

Jed tried to speak, “Ho-”

Jed grimaced. He tried to move. Pain shot across his ribs. Melissa moved towards his IV drip and increased his morphine. She put a hand on his shoulder and gently pressed him back onto the bed.

Melissa said, “I know that look. The pain will pass. Relax. Doctor's orders.”

Jed stared, exasperated, at the ceiling. He found his voice, “Ho- How are they Hunters and how did you not know?”

Derek said, “... it happened after the Kanima incident. The Argents orchestrated it so Hunters would occupy most positions of authority. Gerard was the one that pushed for that. They were going to replace you, too, when reelections came up. But then Gerard went and took the bite through force and then he killed dozens of people before coming here today. The Argents have lost a lot of reputation, but Chris intends to get it all back by destroying the alpha pack. Besides Kevin and Lily, the bodies today were not an issue when everyone but the public knows what is going to happen here. No one will know there was an incident when the library opens on Monday.”

Stiles said, “We're still piecing it together with Chris's help. It looks like Gerard started with homeless people in Washington and somehow made it to alpha. Then he went to young hunters that knew of the Argent name but didn't know much beyond that. His goal was to come back to kill Derek and cure himself. Chris said that it was a fairy tale that werewolves can be cured by killing their maker, and that Gerard should have known that.”

Derek said, “The alpha pack had to have plotted this.”

Stiles said, “The full moon on Monday would have been his first. Maybe the alpha pack took advantage of his crazy and shoved him in our direction. But why? Just for fun?”

As Stiles's voice stuttered on his words, Jed took a moment to gauge the room. As a nurse, Melissa had already seen a lot of death in her life. Jed knew she kept her emotions under wraps. But right now, as the conversation happened around her, Melissa looked on the edge of crying.

Stiles had finished crying before everyone else came in. Derek was as stoic as ever.

Melissa said, “God damn them all. You could have died, Jed. Nine people did. Nine bodies! Three humans, five werewolves, and one psychopath. Just today... Oh god. I can't...”

Jed sighed, “Everyone is in on this now and I'm just another liability.”

Stiles said, “You're not! You took out two of them. Double what anyone else did.”

Jed said, “Yeah, and you had to kill because I missed.”

Stiles looked horrified, embarrassed, and sad all at once.

_Good. He shouldn't ever feel comfortable about killing someone. I hope it stays that way._

Jed continued, “You're sure this Gerard is dead? I heard a story about another former alpha coming back to life and I don't want a repeat.”

Derek grinned, “Scott did a good job of making sure that can't happen. Bisected then removed the head. Peter said that the resurrection ritual can only happen with a complete body.”

Melissa's reaction was too guarded for Jed to make it out. Surprise? A bit of horror? Uncertainty? All of that and more? Probably.

Jed turned towards Derek, “I want the Bite.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gerard is really dead this time. Yay!
> 
> Was that warning about character death just referring to Gerard's demise? Probably.
> 
> If you want, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com


	21. Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout from Gerard's death.

Stiles was about to scream out all the reasons why his father shouldn't take the Bite, but Derek spoke first.

“No,” Derek's tone was final.

Jed was clearly getting angry. His face darkened a shade redder and that vein on his forehead started to pulse. But Stiles relaxed. Derek wasn't willing to give his father the Bite. Derek was going to need a reward after this. Maybe they could watch a funny movie together and have lots of sex. Yes. Lots of sex. In many different positions. Aww, yes.

Jed spat out, “You'll turn teenagers without an idea of what the real world is, but you think I'm incapable of making the right decision?”

Derek said, “The Bite usually kills people over thirty.”

“I'm on their hit list. I'm going to die anyway. With that power, I could protect myself and not be stuck in a damn hospital bed _because I got tackled. God damn._ ”

Derek said, “You'll be better in a few days. Learn to be a better shot. I'm not giving you the Bite. It will kill you.”

Derek walked out of the room. Stiles wasn't quite sure whether to be happy that Derek made the right decision, or sad that his father even asked for it. Jed attempted to move off of the bed. Stiles jumped up and put his hand on his Father's shoulder.

“Stop it! You shouldn't move yet! Dad!”

“Get your ass back here, Derek! I know you can still hear me!”

“Stop it, Jed.” Melissa gently put a hand on Jed's shoulder, “If you don't calm down, I'm going to have to knock you out. It may just be a broken rib and punctured lung, but acting out will only exacerbate your condition.”

“Then give me the damn drugs. Knock me out. This is asinine.” Jed flinched a hand towards his chest and stopped trying to move, “I think I pulled a stitch,”

Stiles stood back. Melissa lifted up his shirt and checked Jed's bandage. Trickles of red stained the white gauze. She didn't act like anything was wrong, but all Stiles could see was the fresh blood. A cold chill ran through his body and froze him on the spot. Breathing got difficult.

Melissa said, “Can you breath?”

Jed took a medium sized breath, “Yeah.”

“Looks like you tore a stitch but it's stopping already.” Melissa reattached the bandage, “You're on bed rest for at least a day. And if you continue to be uncooperative I'm knocking you out.”

Jed said, “Stiles. Go home with Derek. Stick together, okay?”

“I'm not leaving you!”

“Yes. You are. And you're going to do a few things while you're out. Get Chris and whoever the primary Hunter at the Station is to come over here.”

Melissa said, “Not tonight! Tomorrow. _After_ you've had a good night's sleep.”

Jed said, “Fine. This shit is ridiculous.”

Stiles said, “Dad...”

Jed said, “I saw who took out Gerard. I know what that means. You go and make sure things are okay with him.”

_Scott is an alpha now. Holy shit. How could I have forgotten?_

Stiles said, “Ms. McCall, you're sure he's going to be alright?”

“Yes, Stiles... What does he mean 'who took out Gerard'?”

Stiles didn't know what to say. Was it his place to tell Melissa what was happening to her son? It shouldn't be, but should he do it anyway? Stiles's eyes got wide. He slid out the door and away from the confrontation and didn't look back.

_Dad brought it up. He's the officer. Let him tell her._

 

Stiles found Derek waiting by his jeep.

“Get in! Ms. McCall is probably chasing me if she isn't bothering Dad.”

They got in and headed for the warehouse.

Stiles said, “Thank you for not biting Dad. Oh my god. I can't believe he asked. Why would he ask? He knows he can die!”

Derek sighed, “The Bite is a gift, Stiles. It's a lifetime of health and power and knowing beyond a doubt that your loved ones are there with you. Of course he asked.”

“...Okay. Yeah. All perfectly valid points that I haven't really considered. Have you heard from the Pack yet? How is Scott doing?”

“Scott is dealing. We can... almost... feel each other. It's weird to have this connection work backwards. It's not normal. But we're pulling against each other. It's getting worse. Everything seemed more frayed. Closer to breaking. Maybe you should have been the one to kill Gerard.”

“Scott is a great guy-”

Derek clutched his head, “Gah. Even that. Just now. You saying that was like a pulse. I'm losing... Isaac.”

Stiles glared at Derek and pulled out his cell phone. He speed-dialed Scott.

_This shit is not happening. Not gonna happen. Not fucking happening._

Scott picked up and growled, “ _What_? That Asshole strung me along. There's no cure to being a werewolf! He knew he was lying to me the whole time! I'm not getting played ever again. Who are you going to choose, Stiles? Me, or him?”

Stiles got mad, “I am _NOT_ choosing. When we're alive and the alphas are dead, you can have your hissy fit. _So listen here, Scott!_ You're both huge parts of my life now and hopefully for a really long time to come. We're not splitting this pack. We're going to work together. So put on your big-boy pants and deal. You too, Derek. Both of you. End this fight right now.”

There was a crunching sound over the phone. The call ended.

Stiles was flabbergasted, “He... He broke his phone on me? What?”

Derek groaned.

Stiles said, “What happened? Talk!”

“Everything snapped.... But it's coming back, slowly. Scott is there. So is Isaac. Everything feels different.”

Stiles's phone rang. It was Melissa's home phone.

Stiles answered it, “Better be an apology.”

Scott said, “... I'm sorry. Are you two headed to the warehouse? I really need to talk to Derek. I can't do that without you. I'm... I'm just so... Angry. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. We're heading to the warehouse right now. Want me to pick you up?”

“No. I can beat you there on my bike.”

Stiles said, “See you there.”

 

Stiles pulled up to the darkened warehouse. Jackson's porsche was nearby. Two bikes laid against the side of the building. Stiles and Derek made their way inside.

More than a few things had changed since this place became a semi-permanent den in the past week. For starters, there were now more than a few beds scattered to the various corners of the building. Peter slept here. Boyd and Erica might have slept here once or twice, but they weren't here tonight. Derek wanted Stiles to sleep here with him, but Stiles had been thoroughly against that.

There were rats, no showers, no real bathroom, and it was just too dirty.

Lots of chairs and free sofas scavenged from the side of the road filled the center of the area. Isaac, Jackson, Lydia, Peter, and Danny sat on the scattered furniture. The conversation they were having, whatever it was, died, as soon as Derek and Scott saw at each other. Scott stood in the center of the room and stared, red eyed, as Derek and Stiles walked further into the room. Stiles glanced towards Derek. Derek's eyes were also bright red.

Stiles said, “Why don't we all just calm down. _Derek._ _Scott_. Think of your happy places. Yes. That's good. Say goodbye to red eyes.”

Scott's eyes flared red again, “I can't help it, Stiles. I'm trying...”

Derek spoke with a hint of rage, “We went over retraining anchors yesterday. Did you not even try?”

Scott roared, “I tried!”

Derek roared, “Try harder!”

Scott growled. His claws flashed out. He didn't move. Nether did Derek.

Peter said, “I can only imagine an alpha pack meeting.”

Lydia added, “All roaring all the time.”

Jackson added, “Maybe they all just take a whole lot of pot beforehand.”

Lydia added, “I could probably grow some, but I have no seeds.”

Stiles said, “I don't think you're helping.”

Danny said, “Why are they angry at each other, anyway?”

Scott took a half step forward, then backed away.

Scott yelled, “Stiles was my friend first and now Derek took him away. Give him back!”

Derek moved behind Stiles before Stiles knew what was happening, “He's mine now. Don't ever demand that again.”

Stiles said, “I'm both of yours'. In very different ways.”

Scott sat down on the ground, “I know! Fuck. This is too much.”

Stiles forced himself to smile before grabbing Derek's hand and walking closer to Scott. Stiles did his best impression of a completely nonthreatening person. If Derek tried to make this go smoothly it sure didn't show on his frowny face.

Stiles said, “Like I said on the phone: I want to spend a long time with both of you in very different ways. You'll always be my best friend, Scott. Fighting like this is harmful to everyone.”

Scott's eyes faded. Derek's did the same. Stiles smiled at both of them.

Scott said, “I know that. But I just feel so angry. That stupid fairy tale about the cure. Every time I think about Derek using me I just get so mad!”

Lydia said, “Derek, do you have a reason for tricking Scott about the werewolf cure?”

“I needed his help.” Derek grunted, “I would do it again.”

Scott said, “Derek knew the cure was a lie.”

Derek said, “I didn't know for sure! I told you it was a fairy tale.”

Scott said, “You were never going to let me try for the cure, were you?”

Lydia said, “Does that matter? We know now that the story of the cure was a fabrication. You would have gone on a homicidal rampage with the alpha power. Just like Peter did.”

The room went silent as Lydia's words hung in the air.

Stiles released Derek's hand and slowly walked the final steps towards Scott. Stiles reached out. Scott reached back, his claws gone for now. Stiles pulled Scott to his feet and into his arms.

Stiles said, “Are you going to be okay?”

Scott hugged back, “Yeah. I''ll be fine. Maybe you should have killed Gerard. This wouldn't have happened to you.”

“I don't know what would have happened, Dude. Mixing magics isn't a good idea. That would have definitely been mixing magic.” Stiles hugged tight, “You're a strong guy. You're a great person. You'll be a great alpha as soon as you learn control. Derek will help. We'll all help.”

Isaac said, “Yeah. We're here for you.”

Stiles said, “Come here, Derek.”

Derek grunted.

Stiles said, “Dereeeeeeek.”

Derek tentatively joined the hug. Scott smiled.

Stiles said, “It's a were-sandwich!”

They both peeled away before Stiles finished speaking.

Stiles said, “Aww. No more alpha hugs? I know Derek likes to cuddle. If you want to cuddle with me you can, Scott. I'm a great hugger.” Derek growled, Stiles said, “Differently than your cuddles, big guy. Scott and I are like brothers. Com'on. Get your head out of the gutter.”

Scott laughed, “You smell like Derek. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Lydia said, “Are we all good now?”

Peter said, “They were having a moment. I, for one, was enjoying it. Aren't you in awe of having two alphas in a pack?”

Danny said, “It's like the room just got ten degrees hotter.”

Isaac said, “Something like that.”

Jackson said, “God, Danny. We have to get you a boyfriend. That smell is distracting.”

Danny said, “Shut up, Jax.”

Scott said, “I miss Allison.”

Stiles knew, despite trying to care for Scott's immediate mental health, just so Scott wouldn't get sucked back in to a relationship with someone that thought Scott was less than a person, that he had to talk about his time with Allison at the shooting range. As he tried to find the words, Scott and Derek both looked at him.

Stiles said, “Ah... Did I have a reaction before I was ready to speak? I need to learn how to control that.”

Scott said, “You've seen Allison, haven't you? Your entire mood shifted when I mentioned her.” Scott sniffed the air, “You did! What happened?”

“Oh god.” Stiles paused, “Can't we just enjoy this and talk about that later? That's going to be a big conversation and I'm tired.”

“No you're not! You just lied to me! You're not tired at all!” Scott looked desperate, “What happened? Dude! You have to tell me.”

“Fine. Stupid lie-detecting werewolves.” Stiles started to walk into the abandoned railway car. He motioned for Scott to join him, “I know you can all still hear, but let me talk to him alone for a bit, okay?”

Derek sat down with the group. Lydia started talking about something. Stiles didn't listen, he kept walking into the railway cart. Scott followed him. They sat in the back.

Scott said, “You're freaking me out, man. What happened?”

“You're not going to like it, but I doubt that will change you from wanting to know it.” Stiles paused, “She thinks you're an actual, less-than-human, monster. She thinks all werewolves are abominations. Victoria killed herself to prevent herself from becoming a werewolf. That is who the Argents are. I don't know if she can change, but this is who Allison is right now.”

Scott's shoulders drooped. His eyes went soft. He stared at his fingers. The conversation outside the railway cart stopped.

Stiles yelled, “I don't hear talking out there!”

Scott said, “You're... You're not lying. Are you?”

“For what it's worth, I know you're still human. I know you're a fantastic person, too. You're still the best friend that I grew up with. You're still the guy who kicks my ass at Call of Duty. You still care for people in profound ways. I was all for killing Jackson in the middle of the Kanima thing, and you kept it from happening.” Stiles paused and added, knowing Jackson was listening even though it would be really nice if he wasn't, “For what it's worth, Jackson, I didn't think there was another way. I'm sorry about that.”

Jackson yelled, “I forgive you, Asshole!”

Stiles said, “Yeah. Yeah.”

Stiles reached out and put his hands in Scott's.

Scott sniffled, “How can she think that I'm a monster?”

Stiles said, “Brainwashing from her grandfather and having three members of her family die in the past year. One of which killed herself because she thought she was doing the right thing, and Allison picked up on all of those messages. I'm really sorry.”

Scott groaned, “Ugh... Knowing the reasons doesn't actually make it feel any better. She really thinks I'm less than human, now?”

“Umm...”

“What?”

“When she found out about you and werewolves and her family's viewpoints, she decided she could still love you. You were always a monster, from the first moment she met you. She had fallen in love with you, as a monster. I'm paraphrasing here. But I'm pretty sure that's the gist of what she said.”

“ _What does that even mean._ ”

“Sorry, Dude. I'm not a psychologist.”

Scott pulled his hands away and wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeves.

“When did you get good at talking about this stuff?”

Stiles had to think about that for a moment.

“I don't know. This bracelet gave me all sorts of confidence when I had to deal with Chris spewing this shit at me Saturday. I learned exactly what The Code is, though! 'Only kill those were-creatures that kill humans first'. At least I think that's what it is. He wanted to talk about our defensive and offensive capability. I told him that we're not talking about any of our stuff until he can change his views on werewolves. So maybe Allison will change, too? Here's hoping.”

“...Yeah...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com
> 
> I really love comments and kudos! They make me write more. 
> 
> / end-shameless-comment-whoring.


	22. Scott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott feels like an alpha.

Scott woke up Monday morning well before he needed to. With only 3 hours of sleep the night before, he thought he would have felt more tired. But he wasn't. He was awake, alert, and ready to take on the world.

Learning that Allison never actually saw him as a human was a tough thing for him to handle. But sleep had changed everything. As half-remembered nightmares vanished in the dawn of a new day, Scott started seeing the world in a whole new light.

Maybe it was his newfangled strength and speed that made biking as fast as driving. Maybe it was the pack bond and all the good feelings that came from it. Maybe it was Isaac who thought Scott had this amazing moral-compass and that Scott could do no wrong. Maybe it was Isaac becoming something like a brother that Scott never knew he wanted until recently. Maybe it was that everyone in the Pack thought of Scott a Good Person that deserved the best there was.

Maybe Derek had been right about Allison the whole time. Hunters and werewolfs can't have a good relationship when one side views the other as less than human. Yet, some part of him still wanted to be with Allison. Still wanted to protect her. Still wanted to see her smile.

But Scott wasn't going to be with someone that didn't see him as a person. He deserved better than that. Stiles was especially outspoken that Scott deserved someone that loved all of him. And Scott knew that Stiles had Scott's best interests at heart.

Scott laid in bed, his eyes bright red as he stared at the ceiling, and smiled. Birds chirped outside his window. Blue skies and fluffy sunrise colored clouds promised a great day.

_I'm gonna be a great alpha. I'm going to protect everyone. Maybe Allison will change. I hope she does. I do miss her._

Isaac knocked on Scott's door and opened it. Scott glanced over and kept smiling.

Isaac said, “Damn man. You're way too happy this early in the morning.”

“Isaac!”

Scott hopped out of bed and nearly hit the ceiling. He landed on his back and laugh-groaned. He rolled over and stood up. Isaac looked on, maybe concerned, maybe relieved. Scott sniffed the air. Definitely relieved. Happy, too.

“Mornin', Isaac. I did not expect to jump out of bed like that. I'm still getting used to all this.”

Isaac grinned, “Mornin', Scott. You're radiantly happy. How did that happen?”

“I only have two problems now. School, and the alpha pack. I've been juggling so many things for a long time now. This is, like, the Best Day. And it hasn't even started.”

“... You're over Allison?”

“Gah! So many questions! Want to go for a run before school? You're coming today, right? Finish all of your homework? Isn't this a beautiful day?”

“Are you high?”

“What? No. Can't I just be happy?”

Isaac smiled, turned, and walked away. “I'm gonna make pancakes.”

“I love pancakes!”

“I know. That's partially why I'm making them. I like them too.”

Scott started getting dressed while Isaac knocked around in the kitchen downstairs. The smell of butter and bisquick filled the house.

Scott spoke like Isaac wasn't four rooms away, “Is it weird talking from four rooms away?”

“What's weird is hearing you jack off five times a day and then acting like I don't know.”

“Like you're any better, Mister I-have-to-use-lube. _That_ shit is noisy.”

“Noisy? Noise comes and goes but did you know how much more you smell today compared to yesterday?”

“What do I smell like? All I smell is... Me. I can't describe myself. Never thought about that before...”

“You smell like strange animals. Too much time at the animal clinic.”

“I do not!”

“Like you rolled around in dog clippings.”

“You smell like fish and chips.”

“At least tell me it's fresh fish, or else I'm going to be insulted.”

“Fish that sat in the sun for a week and moldy fries.”

“Liar.”

“Yeah. More like... I don't know. You smell like you.”

“... I'm glad you're feeling better. I was worried last night.”

“I have reason to be better. I only have two problems.”

Scott flew down the staircase fully clothed and ready for the day. Something cracked as he hit the ground floor. Isaac rushed into the room. Scott stared at the floor and carefully moved away from his landing spot. With a poke of his foot Scott confirmed that no floorboards were broken. What had cracked was the drywall nearby.

“Oh god. I cannot be breaking shit. Not good.”

“Your mom is going to flip if you jump through a part of the house.”

Another concern leapt to Scott's mind, “Oh no... The Sheriff probably told Mom about me.”

“Eh... I doubt it. He seems like he would leave that up to you. This stuff is kinda personal. Wanna go by and see her before school?”

“...Yes.”

Pancakes were cooked, eaten, and with dishes in the dishwasher within fifteen minutes. They ran out the door and biked through the streets to the hospital as fast as they could pedal. Some old woman walking her dog yelled at them to slow down. Scott didn't know if tickets were given out for going 40 in a 25 if the offense was committed on bicycles, but he slowed down anyway.

Both his and Isaac's bikes were not standing up very well to all this extra stress. Scott didn't want to have to replace his bike. He was on a budget.

Melissa had just finished her shift as they arrived. Scott caught her scent coming out the door as they locked up their bikes. Isaac followed Scott's lead.

Scott called out, “Mom!”

Melissa turned around. Flashes of concern and fear transformed her face and smell. Melissa was in so much pain and Scott couldn't bear to add to her problems. Maybe today wouldn't be the best time to explain that he was now an alpha.

Melissa said, “What are you doing here?”

Scott smiled, trying to put his mother at ease, “We're worried about Stiles's dad. I wanted to come by before school. Are you okay? Something seems off.”

Melissa walked closer and kept her voice down, “The Sheriff is fine. A pain in the ass, but fine... You killed a man.”

Scott wasn't happy about it, but Gerard had to die. Scott needed to protect everyone and he did. Gerard was a psychopath. There were all sorts of reasons that Scott had to kill Gerard. But that still didn't make it right, right?

“I did what I had to do. One of us had to do it. He was a murdering psycho.”

Melissa said, “... I know. You still know it was wrong, right?”

Scott lost his smile, “... I did what I had to do.”

“I... I know. This is not how I wanted to see you grow up. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from this.” Melissa held back a tear, “Goddammit. I'm usually so good at not crying.”

All Scott wanted to do was to make his mother okay. To take all the pain away. To make everything better. He moved forward and hugged her and she hugged back.

Scott said, “If it makes you feel better: You never have to worry about me getting hurt from anything normal ever again. Matt didn't hurt me when he shot me. I could probably fall out of a plane and be fine. Besides all of that, I'm _glad_ I was able to protect you, Mom.”

Melissa laughed and hugged tighter, “You really shouldn't have to protect anyone. You're so young... But... You know? That does help. Just don't go jumping out of planes to test yourself.” Melissa sniffled and said, “Now is probably a good a time as any. What do you say, Scott?”

Scott smiled and said, “Yeah. Now is a good time.”

Melissa turned towards Isaac, “Everyone needs a family and Scott and I have already discussed it. Would you like to officially join ours, Isaac?”

Scott felt it when Isaac made the decision well before he spoke. Like a dam breaking, Isaac reverberated happiness.

Isaac said, “I'd... I'd love that. I really would.”

Melissa said, “I'll get started on the paperwork today. You have to get a part-time job after school, but school comes first. Got it?”

Isaac smiled, “I can do that, Ms. McCall.”

“And you don't have to call me Mom, but you should at least call me Melissa. You're family now.”

“Okay... M- Melissa.”

Scott said, “This is so cool! I have a brother now!”

Melissa said, “You get in here too, Isaac.”

Melissa reached over and held Isaac's hand. Scott reached out and pulled Isaac into the group hug. Tears of happiness rolled down Isaac's face as Scott held them both.

 

School went quickly. Everyone was worried for Scott, but when Scott showed up with a smile on his face and Isaac as a new brother, everyone was thrilled. Stiles most of all.

After school, everyone ended up at the warehouse. The full moon was tonight. With a Scott as a new alpha, and Danny as a new wolf, everyone was ready for the unexpected.

They ordered pizza and ate it all before 7:00. Lydia wasn't sure what she could do against a werewolf that was attacking her, and she didn't want to test out anything on a full moon, so she went home before the sun set. Stiles had experience with keeping werewolves in line, so he stayed.

Around 10:00pm everyone was still sitting around waiting for something to happen. Peter, bored and restless, had gone out to the Hale House with Erica and Boyd to enjoy the moonlit forest. Isaac happily joined them at the last minute when Scott said Isaac didn't need to stick around.

Stiles, Jackson, and Derek checked in on Danny and Scott inside the railway car every so often.

Danny's long white claws and moonlight eyes shone in the half-light of the railway car. Danny had a set of chains around his arms but he wasn't making any sort of motion to hurt anything. He was mostly bored.

Scott had a much thicker set of chains on. But Scott had secretly clipped them off at the base and was just sitting there, claws out, bright red eyes, and no desire to rip anything apart.

From 10:00 to 11:00 Stiles paced outside the railway car. Stiles finally sat down in front of Scott and glared. Scott returned the glare with his own, but he was too calm to have any force behind it. Derek sat beside Stiles and joined in the glare-fest. Jackson leaned against the wall near Danny.

Stiles finally said, “This is stupid. How are you not going crazy?”

Jackson said, “I bet it's Danny. He's so mellow. I get near him and I just want to fall asleep.”

Danny smiled, “It's only natural for you to want to fall asleep in my big strong arms. It's okay. I understand my appeal. You can if you want to. I won't bite unless you like that.”

Derek turned towards Scott, “Scott?”

Scott said, “I could totally fall asleep in Danny's arms, too. That sounds comfortable.” Jackson pulsed confusion. Scott added, “I just want to hug everyone. Want a hug, Jackson?”

Jackson even smelled confused, this time.

Danny said, “Jackson could always use more hugs.”

Stiles said, “Scott was always a happy drunk. Does the alpha power get you drunk, Derek? Is it possible to be literally drunk on power?”

Derek said, “No?”

Stiles said, “You sound so sure of yourself. I can feel the confidence.”

Scott said “I am not drunk! I'm just... I'm kinda bored, actually. I was expecting tonight to be a bit more crazy. I didn't even bring any cards or anything.”

Stiles said, “I'm bored too. Like I said: This is stupid.”

Derek huffed, “Want to go to the woods with the rest?”

Scott stood up, the ends of his chains dangling in mid-air, “Yeah! Let's do that!”

Stiles harrumphed, “You broke your damn chains already. Useless chains!”

Danny clipped his chains apart with his apparently super-sharp claws. They fell clattering to the ground. Scott tried to do the same thing but he could only twist and break the metal instead of clipping it apart. In a moment, the chains were off of his wrists and Scott could feel Derek's sadness. Scott tried to think of what he could have possibly done wrong. How did he hurt Derek this time?

Stiles said, “Useless chains!”

Scott said, “What's wrong, Derek?”

Derek eventually said, “...They were in my family for generations. They weren't meant to hold things besides normal wolves.”

Stiles put a hand on Derek's back, “Sorry, Derek. I didn't know they were your family's.”

Danny said, “Sorry. I am having a bit of impulse control issues. I should have thought of that. They even looked old.”

Derek said, “It's fine. They _were_ old.”

Danny said, “I feel more in control than ever. But I do have an urge to stay transformed. Is that normal?”

Derek said, “Normally, you'd be going crazy right now. So normal doesn't seem to apply.”

Scott said, “I'm getting a really strong urge to run around naked in the moonlight. Is that a thing we do? Or is that frowned upon?”

Stiles laughed, “Derek frowns upon everything. But probably not that.”

Scott said to Derek, “Oh! Peter transformed all the way. Does that mean you and I can too?”

Stiles gasped, “ _Can you_? Derek! Oh my god! I want to see.”

Scott stared at Derek. Everyone else stared too. If it wasn't for his frown, Scott would have thought Derek was uncertain.

Derek eventually said, “I don't know if Scott can.”

Scott said “Why?”

“If a werewolf is capable of a full transformation, they have blue eyes. If not, they have yellow eyes. You probably can't transform. It's really not a pleasant experience. It hurts like hell and it might make you go crazy. Peter was uncontrollable fully transformed.”

Jackson fist pumped the air and started smiling. Derek scrunched his face at Jackson's enthusiasm. Danny flexed his claws out and in as he opened and closed his fist.

Jackson started stripping, “I'm trying this right now.”

Scott said, “Maybe you shouldn't, Jackson. I don't want anyone getting hurt.”

Derek said, “He'll just try it on his own. Best do it now so we can stop him when he loses control.”

Stiles looked away, “Jackson's already had a full body transformation when he was a Kanima. So that makes sense for Jackson to be able to go all the way. I thought it was an alpha thing, though?”

Derek replied, “No one knows why it happens this way, Stiles. But yellows do turn into blues after a while in an established pack. It will probably happen faster for Scott than everyone else, though.”

Danny said, “What does that make me?”

Derek said, “I really don't know. Special. Everyone is special these days. I have no idea what the fuck is happening anymore.”

Danny seemed okay with that explanation. He didn't ask again. Scott couldn't help but think that if Derek was Stiles, Derek would be wonderfully confused and talking up a storm. Scott decided he liked that idea. Derek should talk more. It would be good for him.

Stiles said, “I still want to know what you look like, Derek.”

Derek said, “I'm not transf- It's a wolf, alright? A giant black wolf.”

A series of sickening wet crunches echoed through the room. Jackson, naked and in pain, tried to shift the whole way as he knelt on the floor of the warehouse. Jackson's legs broke at a horrible angle and for one brief moment Jackson was a sleek silver-grey wolf, and then he shifted back into a human. Jackson sobbed. Danny rushed over and put his unclawed hand on Jackson's shoulder.

Danny said, “Jax! Say something. Are you okay?”

Jackson blinked, gasped a few times, and laid on his back, “That was fucking painful. Yeah. I'm okay.”

Derek said, “Yes. Like I said: Very painful. Still want to go and find the others in the woods?”

Scott said, “Hell yeah!”

Jackson said, “Yeah. I do. I want to go.”

Stiles said, “Give me your hands, Scott, Derek. I want to try something.”

Scott was all too happy to try this with Stiles. He liked the feeling of a pack but it still felt like it was missing something. Scott wanted his best friend to be there and he wasn't, currently. Scott eagerly reached out to Stiles and felt his alpha connection flash and tense with Derek. Scott narrowed his eyes at Derek as tension filled the air. Derek moved behind Stiles and put his hands on Stiles's shoulders.

Stiles said, “Oh my god. You two! Stop that right now. Didn't we already have this conversation?”

Scott said, “I didn't do anything! I should be able to touch my best friend without his boyfriend freaking out.”

Derek glared, “Imagine if I touched Allison.”

“... I'm over her.”

Stiles said, “That's not possible. Dude! Why didn't you talk to me?”

“Nevermind. I don't want to talk about it... Some other time, Stiles.” Scott looked at Derek, “Stiles was my friend long before he was your boyfriend. Don't be a dick.”

Stiles said, “Give me your hand, Scott. You too, Derek.”

Derek grabbed Stiles's right hand. Scott took the left. Stiles's eyes radiated white.

Stiles said, “Doesn't feel much different.”

It almost sounded like a lie, but Scott let it go.

 

As the night wore on the Pack reformed outside of the Hale House.

The moon above covered the land in silver. Eight unencumbered werewolves and one shy white-eyed boy in red underwear ran through the forest.

 

Besides training, everything was wonderfully peaceful for the next three months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. 
> 
> This felt like a good stopping point because Part 2 will be considerably darker in tone than Part 1. Some readers might not like that. So I chose to end this on a fluffy note.


End file.
